


Picking Up The Pieces

by Halos_Boat



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Angst, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Harry is sad for a while, M/M, Mutual Pining, Nurse Harry, Photographer Louis, Slow Burn, Smut, Strangers to Friends to Lovers, brief mentions of harry/omc, there's some fluff to make up for it though, there's some self-deprecating thoughts nothing too hectic, use of alcohol, use of marijuana
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-01
Updated: 2019-04-01
Packaged: 2019-12-30 09:17:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 11
Words: 72,416
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18312686
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Halos_Boat/pseuds/Halos_Boat
Summary: Harry just signed his second set of divorce papers. He felt like his life was over, like he had nothing left.Then he meets Louis.





	1. One

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! this is my first big bang fic and I enjoyed writing this so much even though it made me wanna pull my hair out at times, it was still rewarding. I hope you all enjoy it! 
> 
> This would have been a disaster if it weren't for my lovely beta, thank you [Karlee](https://heathenharry.tumblr.com/)
> 
> And my [artist](https://nouies.tumblr.com/) , for the lovely artwork for the fic. 
> 
> You were a big help! Thanks for putting up with me :')

 

**November 2017**

 

"So, how are you?"

The question was meant to be simple and an immediate answer to most people. But, for Harry, it was complicated.

Maybe for other people it was just as complicated. He couldn't tell you how many times he heard 'I'm fine' from someone but their red rimmed eyes and blotchy cheeks said something else.

He wondered whether or not his sister could tell just like he could with others. Maybe it was obvious, but why ask? In that moment, he never wanted to kick himself more than he did for all the times he had asked someone that when he could clearly see they weren't fine.

It was like a cycle by now though.

_I'm managing._

_I'm getting there slowly._

And to those he hardly knew, _I'm fine._

But this was his sister and, judging by her somber expression, pinched brows and downturned lips that only worsened the longer he took to answer, she knew what the truth was.

He sighed eventually and answered with, "how do you think?"

It may have come out a bit harsher than he had intended for it to, watching her wince at his tone as he spoke.

"Maybe you need to get out of the house," she suggested in the gentlest tone he had ever heard from her. It was as if she were talking to a child and he hated it.

She wasn't even this bad the first time 'round.He, on the other hand, wasn't sure if this was worse than his first divorce. Yeah, first divorce.

He was now known as the guy that had two divorces. Two failed marriages. Two cheating husbands.

What kind of a sick joke was the universe playing on him, honestly?

But, he could blame no one but himself. He pushed them away. He could sense his marriage crumbling but he didn't do anything about it. He shrugged it off. He ignored their issues. They never communicated.

He would have thought he would have learnt from the first time but apparently he hadn't.

So, just like a pull of a wooden block from a Jenga tower, everything suddenly collapsed. It went tumbling down. Twice. Fucking twice.

"It's not your fault," she said firmly, as if she were reading his mind.

He supposed she was. She knew him better than most people. She knew how much he blamed himself for the downfall of both of his marriages.

"What other explanation is there?" He laughed humourlessly, "I'm the common denominator in both failed relationships--- marriages for fucks sake."

He looked down, fiddling with the handle of his coffee cup, willing himself not to cry. He had been too much of that recently. Ever since he signed those papers a week ago, it seemed like he never stopped.

He was sure his body would have run out of liquids from the amount of crying he had been doing but apparently biology didn't work that way so he hadn't run out of tears.

"It takes two to tango, okay? Besides, they're the ones who lied and cheated on you," she said with a bitter tone in her voice, obvious suggesting how much she detested them.

Why couldn't Harry just be angry and bitter towards them? Why did he have to feel all of this sorrow and grief?

Don't get him wrong, when Harry drank, he got angry all right. He just wanted to punch something or even someone sometimes and the thought scared him shitless. He was never a violent person and he sure as hell wasn't going to start being one now, regardless of how pissed off and upset he was.

"Then why does this always make me feel like shit while they get to go and live their lives all happily ever after? The fact that this is something that is a recurring event in my life says a lot, don't you think?"

"Yes, that recurring theme is you having shit taste in men. They were both assholes and neither mum nor I liked either of them, and you know that, even though Zayn wasn't vocal about it, he never liked them either," Gemma said, more like ranted at this point.

"Neither did Liam," Harry sighed, unsure how else to reply to that.

Regardless of what other people say or how much they try to reassure him that it wasn't his fault, he didn't believe it. It wasn't that easy.

It wasn't as easy as everyone made it seem to be. It was a process. After his first marriage ended, it took him a few months to push all thoughts about his ex-husband away. He locked them in a chest and threw the key away. As his second marriage slipped through his fingers, that chest burst opened, unable to contain itself anymore.

A new vault of memories and emotions joined the chest and made a permanent wall in his mind that he just couldn't get through. He was weak and his fists banged against the bricks and bruised his knuckles until they bled.

"Look," Gemma sighed, "why don't you come stay with Joe, Celia and I for a while? I'm sure Celia will cheer you up a little bit," she smiled softly at him and reached forward to place her soft palm over the back of his hand. Her dark, mauve coloured nails contrasted against his pale skin.

"I don't know," Harry gulped.

He was sure his little niece would cheer him up but he was afraid it might do more harm than good right now because he yearned for a child of his own and she would just remind him of a dream he once had.

He was close. So, so close to getting there but it slipped as fast as soap on a floor, right under his nose.

"Maybe Zayn and Liam then?" Gemma offered, her face showing signs of helplessness now.

And he really appreciated her trying to help--- He did--- But he wasn't ready. He wasn't sure when he would be again but right now, he wasn't.

He wasn't ready to see his two best friends act all lovey dovey with each other while he moped around, newly divorced and alone in his life. He had never felt more alone in his entire life. Even after his first divorce, he hadn't felt completely and entirely alone. He still had Zayn then, having only met Liam. They went out and he drowned his sorrows in burning whiskey and stinging tequila along with his friends.

Then he met Alexander. He wasn't meant to be anything permanent in Harry's life; just a fling he used to get over Connor but of course his heart decided otherwise and he fell for him. Hard.

Lucky for him, (back then, of course) Alex felt the same way and they fell in love quickly. He agreed to marry him and he never regretted anything at that moment in time. He knew they weren't ready. He knew he wasn't over Connor but he stupidly thought marrying someone else might change that.

Maybe it did for a while. He got over Connor and their bitter ending and he focused on Alex and their new start. It fell as quickly as it came. Well, not as quickly as the first marriage but it felt quicker. Maybe because Connor and him dated much longer before they got married whereas Harry and Alex had only been dating a few months before they got married.

A stupid, stupid decision.

His mother always warned him about rushing into things but he never listened, being the petulant human being he was who wore his heart on his sleeve.

"That's not a very good idea," Harry said in a quiet voice, looking down almost shamefully.

Gemma sighed again and squeezed his hand before pulling away. His hand felt cold then and he hated that he didn't want her to let go. He didn't want to do all of this again.

All of the sympathetic, patronising looks and drinking glass upon glass upon bottle of alcohol. It wasn't as if he enjoyed it. He just enjoyed the numbness that resulted from it. It provided an escape for him, even if it was just for a short while.

"Mum misses you," she said with a hopeful glint in her eyes. Right. So she was insinuating that he call her up and ask if he could stay with her like the desperate, lonely man he was who still needed his mum to this very day. How pathetic.

"I'm almost 32, Gemma," he croaked out, surprised at the rasp of his voice. It was probably all the crying.

"There's no shame in wanting your mum or dad's shoulder to cry on, no matter how old you are. Besides, she really does miss you and you've been avoiding her calls," She said, her eyes were as dull as the gloomy sky outside and her skin was almost as pale as his. She tightened her leather jacket around and zipped it up, "It's getting a little chilly in here," she added with a small shiver.

"I'll turn the heater on," He mumbled, dragging his chair over the wood of the floor and heading towards the lounge area to turn the heater on.

He grabbed the remote from his coffee table and turned it on, setting it on an appropriate temperature for both of them as he was not feeling too cold.

When he headed back to the kitchen table, he noticed his sister typing on her phone and he was quick enough to spot his mother's name at the top of the screen and his own name being typed out by Gemma.

She quickly pushed her phone into her pocket once she spotted him walking back.

He took a seat opposite her again. "I'll ring mum later today, okay? But let me do this at my own pace, please?"

Gemma let out a defeated sigh, "I just want to help you, H, you need to know that."

"I do but I have to do some things on my own. When I need help or someone to cry with, I'll let you guys know, yeah?"

"Alright," she finally shook her head, accepting his request, "Zayn also asked me to tell you that he's going to stop by soon, whether you like it or not."

"But he and Liam just got back from Greece," He groaned.

"I don't think he really cares about that," Gemma said with a soft smile.

"God, Zayn," Harry rolled his eyes, staring down at his now cold, dark brown coffee.

"Yes, damn Zayn and his soft, caring heart," she sighed dramatically.

Harry rolled his eyes again but his lips twitched upwards. It was the closest he had gotten to smiling in months.

"Hey, H," She called out. Harry looked up at her, meeting her eyes, "They're assholes and you deserve better."

Harry bit his bottom lip. He wasn't even sure what 'better' was at this point. He had gotten the same thing when he divorced Connor.

You'll find someone better, they said. He doesn't deserve you, they said.

How many times are people going to keep saying that to him? He was just tired. Drained and exhausted; Mentally, physically and emotionally.

"How's Celia?" Harry asked, in desperate need to change the subject because he really didn't feel like talking about his ex-husbands right now.

"She's good. She's getting really tall all of a sudden for a five year-old. She's just growing up too fast," she informed him with a smile on her face.

"I can imagine," Harry smiled too, remembering his niece's bright smile and amber eyes, "I'll come and meet her soon."

"She's been asking about you a lot, so I'm sure she'd love a visit from you."

"I will, I promise. Give her big hug and kiss from me,"

"Of course," she said then got up. Harry stared at her, perplexed as he watched her step to his side of the table. She bent down and engulfed him in a hug, squeezing his shoulders and it felt--- It felt good.

It felt overwhelming but so good at the same time. Despite the awkward position, he cherished the closeness and warmth. She rubbed his arms as he sank into the hug and she kissed his hair before pulling away.

He didn't even know he was crying again until he felt the pads of her fingertips wipe at his cheeks. He quickly wiped the corner of his eyes with his index fingers and sniffed looking at his sister with blurry eyes.

"You really needed that, huh?" She asked with that look. You know, the look you'd give someone who just lost their puppy.

"Didn't know how much," he let out a humourless wet chuckle.

"You're a stubborn git you know?"

Harry laughed again, this time genuinely. "Think I get it from mum," he sniffed again, wiping his nose.

"Well, can't say I'm any better, am I?"

"Pretty sure Joe will back me up on that,"

Gemma glared at him, "all right, all right," she straightened herself and wiped her thighs over her skinny jeans, "I need to go pick up Joe from the airport, but I'm going to be checking up on you and you better pick up your phone, okay?"

Harry bit his lip but nodded anyways.

"I mean it, Harry," she warned him with an intense gaze.

"I know," he sighed, "now leave before you’re late."

Gemma narrowed her eyes at him, "all right now get off that chair and give me a proper hug."

Harry reluctantly got off his chair and hugged his sister properly, resting his chin on her hair, squeezing her tightly. And it felt so good.

"Please don't be a stranger," She said when she pulled away.

Harry simply nodded as she backed away. He watched her shut the door behind her after sending him one last wave before the flat went dead silent again. The only thing that was heard was the sound of the old refrigerator running.

And, once again, Harry felt the familiar feeling of loneliness creeping up on him. Just like that, he was all alone again in his dingy, old flat with nothing but the cold cup of coffee left abandoned on the table, half empty.

***

Harry woke up to an insistent buzz that just wouldn't go away no matter how many times he waved his hand in the air to swipe the pest away.

He finally opened his eyes when he realised that it was no mosquito or pesky bug that made that horrible buzzing sound, but in fact the sound of his intercom buzzing relentlessly.

Harry huffed and slowly sat up, pushing the duvet off of him and slipping on his fuzzy slippers before heading to his door, wiping at his tired eyes and blinking awake slowly.

He pressed the grey button on the intercom, "who is it?" He rasped.

"Its Zayn, you goon. Open up," he said, his voice hasty as if he had to get inside as quickly as possible. Made sense since it was about 0° outside. He quickly buzzed his friend in, unlocking his door and pulling his gown over his pyjamas. He rubbed over his upper arms to create some friction and warmth in his body until he spotted his raven-haired friend, thick, brown coat on and what looked like a thin pair of sweatpants.

His hair was disheveled and his eyes were tired and droopy. He looked like he just rolled out of bed and yet he still looked like a model. Harry despised him.

"Hey, H," he said cheerfully, walking in and shutting the door behind him, he turned to Harry again, "I brought donuts and a cookie," he said, holding out a brown paper bag.

Harry's mood instantly brightened. He loved him."Thank you," Harry said, grabbing the bag from Zayn and wordlessly walking to his kitchen. He could hear Zayn's footsteps as they followed behind him.

"So," Harry began, placing the bag on the counter and then leaning against It, crossing his arms over his chest and looking at his friend who sat on the bar stool opposite him, "what brings you here at arse o'clock in the morning?"

"It's not even that early," he paused, shrugging the ends of his coat off his wrist to look at his watch, "It's almost eight."

"Its early," Harry argued.

"Whatever," he sighed, "and you know why I'm here."

Harry was the one to sigh this time, looking down at the floor, the cracked tiles suddenly becoming the subject of interest, "a pity party?" He murmured while looking down.

"A supportive friend," Zayn corrected. Harry looked up to see his friend looking back at him with pursed lips, "You know the last thing I would do is pity you."

"I know," Harry mumbled. He knew that out of everyone, Zayn just got him. He understood him well and knew that Harry hated the pity he had gotten from everyone else.

"Good, now eat your donut and let's go get us some real breakfast," Zayn ordered with a stern gaze.

Harry huffed and reached for the bag, pulling out the small box of donuts and placing it on the island in front of him. He took out the chocolate glazed one and handed Zayn the sprinkled one.

"I needed this," he said with a mouthful of the delicious fried dough and sweet chocolate.

"I know you did," he said with a cocky shrug, chewing his relatively slower than Harry who was devouring his.

Harry finished his treat quickly and changed into something more appropriate for going out before brushing his teeth and meeting Zayn again, who now stood at the threshold of his flat.

Harry grabbed his black coat from the coat hanger and his keys from the coffee table before heading out with Zayn, locking his door behind him.

Zayn drove them to an unusual café at the end of the street, parking opposite the shop. They managed to find a good booth towards the end of the vicinity and near the heater.

As they looked at the menu, Harry could feel Zayn staring at him so he finally snapped, placing the menu down, "all right, spit it out," he sighed.

"You've been ignoring people," Zayn said, placing his own menu down and leaning forward, both arms crossed over the mahogany table.

"What else is new?" Harry asked in a dismissive manner.

"Babes," Zayn said with a stupid pout on his face. Harry looked away, gnawing at his bottom lip.

"I'm hurting, Z," Harry explained, "and I don't know how to deal with it this time."

Zayn shifted closer to him and grasped his hand, holding it tightly in his own. It felt anchoring. After drifting and floating away for months, he finally felt grounded. Harry knew it was a sign for him to carry on.

"I just...It's not like I can help how I feel, you know? I just keep thinking back to the moment - the exact moment - where things could have gotten wrong. Where exactly did I fuck up enough to lose him? What could I have done to change it? What can I do to change it? Just, what went wrong?"

And he didn't know what it was about Zayn but that was the most he had opened to someone about anything in the past few months.

Zayn remained quiet but Harry could see him look down and bite his bottom lip. He was refraining.

"What?"

"Nothing," Zayn shook his head, sighing, "I just--- you're blaming yourself when he was the one that cheated on you?"

Harry shook his head, too, pulling his hand away from Zayn's grip and clapping his own two hands together over his lap, leaning back, "this is not the first time, Z. What the hell am I doing wrong that drives them to go and cheat in the first place, you know?"

Zayn frowned, "ever thought that maybe they're both just assholes or say you were having issues and they did feel unhappy in your relationship, is cheating really the answer? What happened to trying and talking it through? Communication?"

"I didn't communicate either," Harry argued weakly. He wasn't sure why he was so hell bent on blaming himself--- he just was.

"Yeah but the difference between you and them is that you never cheated on them," Zayn said, getting heated now. He took a deep breath, exhaling slowly, "babe, I just wish you'd stop blaming yourself for things that are out of your control."

"Are you using your psychology degree against me?" Harry mumbled with a small smile on his face.

Zayn groaned and scrubbed his hands over his face, "Harry, I'm being serious here."

"'M sorry."

"You're lucky you're so adorable," he said, almost begrudgingly.

"Zayn, why do I feel this way?" Harry asked after a gap of silence.

"Because you need something solid to place blame on. People find it easier to cope with things when they do that," he explained.

"Easier," Harry scoffed, "I’m just not enough for them."

Zayn pulled Harry's shoulders so that Harry's head was laying against his shoulder, "You. Are. Enough. More than enough, in fact. They just lost the best thing that ever happened to them, Haz."

Zayn words brought tears to his eyes and smile to his lips.

"Are you smiling?" Zayn asked in a whisper, leaning his own head against Harry's.

Harry's grin grew wider, "fuck off, you dick."

"There's the Harry I know," Zayn said, squeezing his shoulders, "listen, why don't we forget about all of this depressing talk and get some delicious hot chocolate and drown yourself in cake and pastries instead of alcohol this time."

"Can we include sandwiches because you know I have to have something savoury to balance out all the sweet."

"Right, right, of course," Zayn rolled his eyes and shifted a little further away from him to grab his menu, "bet you ten bucks I can guess what you're going to order."

Harry smirked at him, "You're on."

"You have to be honest though, okay? No cheating," Zayn said with a warning yet playful glare.

"Cross my heart," Harry said, his one hand up in surrender and the other drawing out a cross with his finger over his heart.

"Fine," Zayn opened up his menu and started to page through the food and beverage items.

It was three hours later when they actually finished at the café. Harry felt so much lighter and happier than he had been in months. Zayn won the bet and guessed what Harry ended up ordering, right down to the extra avocado on his sandwich. It felt great to be wanted again. To be treated again. To be able to feel something other than loneliness and sorrow for once.

Zayn ended their visit later that afternoon, saying he had to meet Liam's mum and dad for supper but promising to come back tomorrow and to bring Liam. Harry almost cried again --- happy tears this time --- when Zayn hugged him tightly, kissed his cheek and said that he loved him.

He hadn't heard anyone say that to him in months. His family didn't count. They always said it to him. For some reason, Zayn's felt so much more heart warming. Maybe it was because he hadn't seen him in so long that it was nice to hear it from him.

After Zayn left, Harry decided to finally give his mum a call, like he had promised he would last week.

It rang twice before she finally picked up, his heart stuttered in his chest when she said his name. A soft and familiar 'Harry' in her voice made him sigh in relief.

"Hey, mum," he croaked out.

"Oh, baby, it's so nice to hear your voice again," she laughed shortly in a happy tone.

"It's nice to hear your voice too, mum," he said, leaning back on his couch.

"Gemma told me you're thinking about coming home," she said. Harry could hear the hopeful tone in her voice.

"I am but honestly, seeing Zayn today put me in a much better mood than I have been in a long, long time," Harry said truthfully.

"That's good, love," she said, "just know I'm here, okay? Even if you want to come over for just a day or just a night--- I'm here."

"I know, mum," he smiled, "I just need to be by myself for a while."

"You always do," His mum sighed.

"Just feel like being alone right now," Harry shrugged.

"I know but we'll get through this okay? You'll get through this. That awful man didn't deserve you," she huffed through the speaker.

"Wow, Gemma was right. You really never liked him," Harry chuckled.

"Never liked that Connor boy either," Anne said with a scoff, "too much of an arrogant bastard if you ask me."

"Mum," Harry gasped.

"Just the truth, honey," she said.

"All right well, they're both out of my lives now so are you happy?"

"I'm not happy about the way it happened. You didn’t deserve that and those boys will pay for what they did to you,"

"Mum, you're sounding like a psycho right now. Please don't tell me you're going to be the one that's gonna make them pay," Harry laughed nervously.

"No, no. Karma will take care of that."

"Yeah well, I'm waiting for that day."

"It'll come soon, babe. You just have to take care of yourself, yes?"

"Yeah," Harry nodded although it was kind of numb.

"Please call me again soon, love or come and visit. I'll come there if you'd like me to,"

"I'll let you know, mum," he said, genuinely.

"Okay," she sighed, not entirely happy with the answer, Harry was sure but she accepted it anyways.

"I love you, mum," Harry said.

"Love you too, babe," she replied and Harry could hear the smile in her voice.

Once they hung up, Harry placed his phone on the coffee table and shut his eyes, letting out a breath. He was stuffed, slightly happy and tired. He felt like a python due to his gluttony.

It wouldn't be the worst to take a nap, would it? He took off work for some time now so it should be for getting some rest anyways. Nothing wrong with sleeping at 4 in the afternoon if you were rudely awakened at 8 in the morning after barely four hours of sleep.

With his mind put to rest, Harry felt his eyes drooping shut and sleep taking over.

***

Meeting his mum for the first time in months wasn't as bad as he had expected it to be. Sure, there were times where she asked him questions about the whole divorce but she didn't push and he didn't hesitate to answer, much to his surprise.

Maybe he was stupidly naive but that could have been the first step to healing. Or maybe it was just wishful thinking on his part.

"When do you get the date?" She had asked that same night he had gone to visit her.

He knew what she was asking about, of course. The date that the court would send to officiate the end of their marriage. A date that the court will send soon and Harry dreaded that day. It was step two and soon after would be financial discussions. In both cases, Harry had the upper hand due to his spouses being the ones that committed adultery although he was never the one to file for a divorce in the first place.

The financial discussions could take up to six weeks before his divorce is officially final. The whole process is draining. And he would be going through it. Again.

"Well, I don't think I have to give you any legal or financial advice for this part, can I?"

"I should be fine, mum," Harry chuckled.

It was a sunny day for a change. His mum suggested that they sit outside for a change and enjoy some breakfast. Harry couldn't say no because he kind of missed the smidge of sunlight that shone over the otherwise gloomy sky.

"I made a new best friend," Anne said, her mouth full of papaya as she chewed it slowly.

"Really? Do I already know her?" Harry asked, leaning forward, his elbows rested on top of the flimsy wooden table.

"Why do you assume it's a female?" Anne arched her brow at him, her lips smirking.

Harry backtracked, "oh, well--- I mean, is it a male? That's fine. I just assumed-- I'm sorry, I shouldn't assume any---"

Anne barked out a laugh, "oh, relax, hun. It's a female and she lives a few houses down," she explained, gesturing where about with her fork.

"Oh," Harry pinched his brows together, "how long has she been living there?"

"Not long," she said, pushing a piece of apple into her mouth, "About six months or so."

"Oh, well I'm happy for you," Harry said with an honest smile.

His mum was getting lonely without Robin. His passing was not easy for any of them, given how close they all were to him. Now that Gemma, Harry and Robin were gone, she opened up about she felt and he and Gemma tried their best to be there for her as much as possible. Which was why the whole divorce thing hadn't come in the best timing. Actually, no timing at all would have been ideal, if he was being honest.

"Are you thinking about dating again?" He asked abruptly.

Her chewing slowed down then came to a stop. She looked up at him then shifted her gaze thoughtfully.

"I think I'm done with that," she concluded, "I'm too old for all of that now."

"You're never too old, mum," Harry said, although he wasn't really trying to convince her because he guessed that she would say that. It was more of a general statement.

She raised an eyebrow at him, "Well, are you?"

"Old? Psht, absolutely not," Harry quipped, waving her off.

She gave him a deadpanned look.

Harry sighed, "I don't know. Just really discouraged from anything right now, if I'm being honest."

"Well, unlike me, you still have enough time to find your soulmate and I have a feeling you're going to find him soon,"

"That makes one of us," he scoffed.

"Oh, speaking of," her eyes brightened in realisation, "my new best friend has a son that's around your age and I--"

"No, mum. Stop right there. The last time you tried to set me up with someone, he ended up stealing my wallet and spitting on my shoes," he grimaced, then brought his cup of tea to take a small sip of it, tentative of the temperature.

"Oh, Harry. Get over it, would you? That was years ago," she rolled her eyes, "besides, her son is very good looking too--- nice on the eyes and sm---"

"Mum," Harry groaned.

She laughed then her face turned serious, "I'm only encouraging you because I know you're blaming yourself right now for something that isn't even your fault."

"So convincing me to date other guys is doing that?"

"Oh hush," Anne picked up a grape and threw it at him. The small fruit just missed his eye.

"So mature," Harry said flatly.

"Even if it isn't dating--- have some fun, you know? Don't rush into anything. Maybe just fine someone to roll around in the hay with, if you get what I'm saying," she winked.

Harry groaned even louder, "oh my god, mum. Are you seriously asking me to get a fuck buddy or something?"

"That language is so foul," she grimaced, "just a friend you have occasional intercourse with."

Harry covered his face with his palms. "I can't believe we're having the conversation," he mumbled into his skin, "and who even uses the word intercourse anymore?"

"Coitus?" She offered with a playful smile.

"Okay anyway," he squeaked, "what's your friend's name?"

"Jo."

"All right and am I going to meet her any time soon?"

"Not now, I'm afraid. She's gone to see her daughter in France for a while. If you choose to still speak to your poor old mother and not shut her out again, I'll be sure to call you over next time she's around," she ended with a pointed stare.

Harry refrained from rolling his eyes and offered her a sarcastic smile instead, "thanks."

"Quite a mouth on you all of a sudden," Anne hummed, her eyes narrowed at him.

"Sorry," he mumbled sheepishly.

"You know what," she said, straightening up. Harry gave her a questioning look. "Lets go clubbing."

"Mum," he drawled out in a groan, "why are you like this?"

"Well, excuse me for trying to help my son," she said, her hand over her chest.

"Can we not just--- I don't know, bake a cake or something?" Harry offered desperately.

Because clubbing with his mum... no thank you. Big no thank you as far as Harry was concerned.

He loved his mum to bits but she was pushing it too far this time. Trying too hard and he wasn't sure why.

"How about some cupcakes?" She asked with a playful smile and twinkle in her eyes.

Harry sighed in relief, "anything but what you suggested, if I'm being honest."

"Fine, chocolate it is then," She ended with a sweet smile and took a dainty sip of her juice.

"Mum," Harry whined, "You know I hate chocolate."

"No son of mine will hate chocolate thank you very much," she waved him off, now paging through this morning's newspaper with her manicured fingernails and ring-clad fingers.

"You hate cherries. Who hated cherries? That's, like, a crime," he fought back weakly.

"Argument is weak, darling," Anne said off-handedly, chuckling softly at the comic section.

"You're supposed to be cheering me up," Harry mumbled, letting out a defeated sigh and taking a big sip of his morning coffee.

When he looked back at his Mum, she was smiling, one of her fond, loving smiles.

"How about some vanilla ones with strawberry icing then?"

Harry's lips slowly pulled up into a smile, "jam in the middle?"

Anne grimaced but quickly composed herself, "right, I forgot how much you liked jam--- fine then."

"Blueberry jam?" He asked, biting his lip.

"Blueberry jam in vanilla cupcakes with strawberry icing?" Anne asked with an unimpressed look.

"Hey, it'll cheer me up okay?" He pouted.

"I swear to god, you’re like a child sometimes," she huffed and pushed her chair back, "come on then, let's make this abomination of cupcakes that you want."

Harry grinned and followed his mum to the kitchen.

They baked the cupcakes just as Harry had wanted them and they tasted horrendous, but that was the most he had smiled and actually enjoyed himself in months, so he wasn't complaining.

***

When his final set of divorce papers were signed and finalised, Harry drove straight to Zayn's and Liam's. He wasn't even thinking straight; he just had to get away--- he just wanted a hug.

His mum was too far away. Gemma was too far away. Most of his other friends were Alexander's friends or Connors friends from way back when that he hadn't spoken to since they got divorced.

He had to go to Zayn and Liam. They were his best friends.

His best friends who were also a newly wed couple and quite annoyingly still stuck in their honeymoon phase years later and couldn't keep their hands off of each other.

They never really could, now that Harry was thinking about it. He couldn't tell you how many times he had walked in on them doing each other. One time, doing another guy. That scarred Harry very deeply and they don't discuss that night. Ever.

So, really, he shouldn't have been surprised when he knocked on the door and heard fumbling on the other side only to see them looking all frazzled and fucked when they answered.

"Harry," Liam greeted with a surprised look on his face.

"I should have called," Harry mumbled, studying the gown thrown over Liam's body haphazardly.

"Nonsense, come in," Liam stepped aside, pulling Harry in gently by his arm.

"Harry," Zayn said before Harry could even take three steps into their household.

Upon hearing how Zayn said his name--- as normal and mundane as ever, mind you--- he broke down crying.

Before he knew it, arms were gathering him up and ushering him onto the couch. Hands petted his back and sifted through his hair while hot tears ran down his cheeks and choked sobs left his throat.

"Oh, Harry," Zayn said. Harry was pulled into Zayn's chest while Liam's hands rubbed his back.

"Harry, hey," Liam squeezed his shoulder to get his attention, "You need to breathe, okay? Just breathe with us."

Liam and Zayn inhaled slowly and exhaled a few times, waiting for Harry to do the same. He eventually did, his sobs still wracking through his body in sudden outbursts and violent shakes.

He pulled away from Zayn and wiped at his eyes. Harry could feel both their eyes staring at him, silently asking what was wrong but giving him the time he needed to answer and explain himself. He supposed he owed it to them, showing up at their doorstep at nine at night, interrupting their lovely couples night with his depressing, morbid mood and dull mood.

He just ruined everything.

"'M so sorry," he started. Before Zayn or Liam could even shake their heads, he continued, "I should have called or something b-but I didn't where else t-to go."

"We're here for you anytime you need us, H. You know this," Liam enunciated, shifting closer to him.

"What happened, babes?" Zayn asked, his hand now over Harry's, laying limp over his lap.

"Th-the papers,"

He didn't have to finish, Zayn gave him a knowing look, pulled him in by his neck and hugged him again.

"It'll be okay, H,"

Harry didn't believe them at this point. He lost hope and he wasn't sure when he'd gain it back--- if he'd gain it back at all. He wasn't sure what the point was anymore, when all that happened to hope in the end was get crushed. Stomped. Trampled.

"Do you want to stay here tonight?" Liam asked, voice soft.

"I d---"

"You're not going to be trouble. Please stay with us for a while. We're here for you," Zayn squeezed his shoulders.

Harry sighed and pulled away. His head lolled backwards until his eyes met the ceiling. The pale white contrasting with the black, matte lamps that hung over him.

"Do you want some tea or coffee--- anything?"

"No thanks," he shook his head. Even with his lids now shut, his eyes still burned.

"Well the guest room is ready for you if you need to have a lay down. You look exhausted,"

Harry opened his eyes to see Zayn studying his features worryingly.

"I don't think I want to wake up," he laughed humourlessly.

"Harry," Liam warned in a soft yet firm tone, "he's not even worth it, mate."

"Yeah, H. Don't say shit like that. He's a pig," Zayn said, eyebrows pinched and cheeks red.

"I think I'm going to sleep," Harry muttered, out of lack of thought and words, he could only focus on one other thing.

"All right," Zayn sighed. With a pat to his shoulder, he said, "don't hesitate to tell us if you need anything because Li and I are here for you."

"Always," Liam enunciated.Harry smiled at his friends as best as he could, "I don't deserve you guys."

"If anything we don't deserve you," Zayn grinned back, "what with your adorable dimples and curly hair--- way out of our league, don't you think, Li?"

Liam chuckled, "definitely."

"Zayn, you're literally a model. What the fuck," Harry snorted.

Liam barked out a laugh and Zayn frowned.

"You could be one too!" He protested. "Just let me cheer you up, okay?"

Harry pursed his lips together and bit back a smile. They always knew how to make him smile, even if his mood was dull.

"Do you think I'm going to be okay after this?" He asked quietly.

"You're Harry fucking Styles," Zayn looked him in the eye, a hand on his shoulder, "you'll be more than okay." 


	2. Two

**December 2017**

 

"Zayn, stop," Harry drawled out in a frustrated whine. 

 

"Harry, you've been wallowing away in your room for the past four weeks. It's time to get up and fucking take a shower, mate. When did you even shower last?" 

Harry opened one eye at his friend, a frown on his face, "what day is It?" 

Zayn gave him an unimpressed look, raising one eyebrow, "seriously? It's Friday afternoon." 

 

"Then probably Monday or Tuesday," he mumbled, turning his head into his pillow and shutting his eyes again. 

 

"No,no, no," Zayn pulled the duvet away from his body and threw it to the side, "get up and get dressed--- and take a shower." 

 

"Why?" He whined again, feeling like a petulant child. 

 

"Because I can't stand seeing you like this and, as your best friend, it's my duty to get you out of your funk--- literally," he said, scrunching up his nose into a grimace. 

 

"Why should I? I'm comfortable on my own here," he sighed. 

 

"Harry, you quit your job and you haven't showered in over four days. You need to get out of bed, mate. Come on," he insisted again but in a much gentler tone. 

 

Harry stared at him for a moment before finally giving in, scrubbing his hands over his face and slowly getting up. 

 

"Head rush," he groaned. 

 

"Go shower and then we're going to get some food because you need some sunlight while the sun is still out," Zayn shoved the duvet back onto the bed once Harry stood up. 

 

Harry's legs felt as wobbly as jelly while he walked to his bathroom. 

 

"You're lucky I love you," Harry grumbled, watching Zayn walk out his room, not before flipping him off first. 

 

***

 

"Oh, look who it is," Liam cheered as Harry and Zayn entered the pub. 

 

"Yeah, yeah," Harry mumbled grumpily. He was still in a bad mood from earlier. 

 

It was only an hour ago so his feelings were still valid. 

 

He sat down on his chair, slumped and arms crossed over his chest. 

 

"Listen, grumpy, you're going to order some real food and hydrate yourself properly," Zayn ordered with a stern gaze. 

 

Harry nodded, knowing better than to argue with Zayn while he seemed upset. 

 

"And can you stop looking like such a dull dud? We've been entertaining your bed ridden phase for far too long in my opinion," Zayn mumbled, angrily flipping through his menu. 

 

A sudden bulb of guilt dropped down to his stomach. His moody demeanour changed and he looked down at his own menu with a sad expression. 

 

He really wished he didn't cause everyone in his life pain. Why was he always like this? 

 

"Zayn," Liam scolded in anything but a subtle whisper. 

 

Zayn frowned, turning to Liam to glare at him. Realisation dawned upon him once he noticed that Liam was gesturing at Harry's crestfallen look. 

 

"I'm sorry," Zayn breathed out, "Harry, I'm sorry." 

 

"No, Zayn. You're right--- it's okay. I've just been a bit of a bubble of emotion lately so I'm more sensitive than usual," he laughed, a little humour behind the sound. 

 

"I am still sorry. I didn't mean to snap at you," Zayn reached over and squeezed his shoulder. Harry looked at him again. "Lets just have something to eat, yeah? Baby steps?" 

 

Harry nodded, even though he wasn't feeling it at all. There were so many people in the pub already; laughing, talking, screaming--- it was a bit much for him. 

 

After staying away from everything like this for so long, throwing him right back into the deep end after not swimming for weeks was difficult. 

 

"We can go back home and watch a movie after this, sound good?" Liam offered, looking at Harry with his pleading puppy dog eyes. 

 

"Yes, please." 

 

"You can even pick out the movie," Liam reached across the table and patted Harry's hand, sending him a small smile. 

 

"No," Zayn groaned. 

 

"Too late," Harry smirked. 

 

"He's going to make us watch The fucking Notebook again, isn't he?" 

 

"Actually, that may make me a little more depressed than usual so I may be up for just a comedy?" 

 

Liam's eyes lit up and Zayn frowned at him. 

 

"Babes, I was only joking. We can watch  _ The Notebook _ if you want to." 

 

"No, no. Maybe  _ The Hangover _ or, like, the movie with the tiger?" 

 

Liam startled out a laugh, "the movie with the tiger is  _ The Hangover _ , Harry." 

 

"Hey, I could have been talking about The Jungle Book for all you know," Harry mumbled.

 

"But you weren't, were you?" Zayn raised a knowing eyebrow at him. 

 

"Shut up," Harry frowned, turning the page. His eyes then landed on the section, 'Antipasti'. "I think I'm going to get a calzone, what about you guys?" 

 

Liam and Zayn thankfully dropped the subject and decided to order a gourmet sandwich and buffalo wings to share between the two of them. 

 

It was when their food arrived and Zayn was devouring his  chicken sandwich that Liam finally asked him a question Harry knew he'd held back on for a while now. 

 

"Why did you quit your job?" 

 

Judging by Zayn's reaction (almost choking on a thick slice of bread) he didn't think Liam was supposed to ask that question. 

 

But, Harry knew it was inevitable. When he told Zayn he quit, Zayn hadn't prodded and asked any questions as to why. He just knew better than to do that. He knew that Harry would tell him when he was ready.

 

There was a gap of silence over the three of them, chattering from other patrons were  white noise \--- almost muffled. 

 

"I couldn't do it anymore," Harry replied, cutting up a piece of his calzone and placing it delicately into his mouth. He avoided Liam's stare. 

 

"Why?" Liam egged on. 

 

Harry sighed. He took a sip of his water before answering, "it's what caused both my marriages to fall apart." 

 

Liam frowned when Harry finally met his eyes. It was an angry, yet confused frown. Zayn was still wordlessly chewing on his food, occasionally glancing at the two. 

 

"Is that really what you think?” Liam frowned at him, look of pity in his eyes. 

 

"It's obvious, isn't it?" Harry shrugged. "They both told me that that was why they did what they did in the first place." 

 

"That's ridiculous," Liam spat, incredulously. 

 

"Liam," Zayn warned gently yet firmly next to him, placing a hand over Liam's. 

 

"It's not, Li. They were right. I didn't spend enough time with either of them--- I neglected them and that's why I am where I am today." 

 

Liam gave Zayn an incredulous look before looking at Harry the same way. "You're seriously letting your best friend think like this?" He asked, looking at Zayn again. 

 

"I didn't know he thought that," Zayn explained, as calm as ever. 

 

"God, Harry," Liam huffed, pinching the bridge of his nose then shaking his head, "they cheated on you--- they're the ones at fault here!" 

 

Harry clenched his fist over the table, dropping his cutlery. "Liam, I drove them away---" 

 

"It doesn't make what they did right," Liam countered, cutting him off. 

 

"I should have been more attentive though," Harry admitted with a sad frown, "I should have worked harder on our marriage." 

 

"Yeah, and they shouldn't have thought that the best solution was to fucking cheat instead of talking to you like a normal, healthy couple would do--- communicate with each other, you know?" Liam ranted, nostrils flaring.

 

"Okay, enough," Zayn squeezed his hand now, sitting up straighter, "Harry, you know he's right. You loved that job," he said, calmly--- gently. 

 

Harry looked down at his half eaten calzone, "sometimes you have to give up the thing you love." 

 

Harry could hear Liam scoff softly but he didn't add anything. Zayn sighed through his nose. "Your job is different--- You help so many people, H. They depend on you." 

 

"Well, I---" he cut himself off with a sharp inhale, "I just need some time away to think about things." 

 

"But you quit," Liam frowned again. 

 

"I'll start applying elsewhere. Maybe they'll take me back at the hospital, if I'm lucky, but I really needed to quit. I need to spend more time on myself and what I want," Harry said, his voice and demeanour less shaky and somber, more confident and determined. 

 

"Well, we are going to support you, okay? Just stop doing stupid shit for fucks sake," Liam sighed and shook his head.

 

Harry snorted, "thanks, Li." 

 

"Yeah yeah," Liam waved him off. 

 

Harry knew he was  still upset about it. Hell, Harry wa s too. Zayn was right, he loved his job. 

 

He loved being a nurse and being able to help people in any way they needed--- whether it were men, women, old, young--- he loved it. 

 

So quitting something he really, truly loved to do--- something not many people get the privilege to do much anymore--- hurt him even more. 

 

But, he had to do it. 

 

He had to make a change in his entire life and this was the first step. Harry had just felt that it was necessary in order for him to move past everything. 

 

He wasn't sure he would find anyone else after this, but maybe not neglecting everything and everyone in his life would be a good change for once. 

 

He could start up his golfing again. Maybe he could take up a new hobby. Painting always sounded interesting. Maybe Zayn could teach him how to draw. 

 

He could spend more time with his sister and his niece and also with his mum who he knew needed some company now and then. 

 

"Will you be okay financially then?" Liam asked. 

 

Zayn nudged him with his elbow. Liam rubbed over the spot on his stomach with a pout on his face. 

 

"What Liam meant to say was that if you need help financially while you're looking for another job, we're here to help you out--- especially after you settle your finances with Alex. You're going to need to really start looking for a job then. You know that, right?" 

 

Harry... Well, he didn't think that through. Finances. Fucking finances. He knew he had enough in his bank to last him for some time but with the financial discussions coming up, he wasn't sure how that would play out with their lawyers and the magistrate. 

 

"I should probably start now," Harry scrubbed his hands over his face, "fuck, I'm so stupid." 

 

"H, it's all right. Just consult your lawyer and see where you guys can go from there. Maybe this won't be that big of a deal. You get the upper hand here, even if he filed for divorce. He is the one who committed adultery so the odds may be in your favour."

 

"I just can't fucking wait for this to be over," Harry said, gritting his teeth. His hands were beginning to shake and his anger was slowly taking over. 

 

It wasn't fair that they got to do that. It wasn't fair that they got ruin his life like this and still got to live happily ever after while he was stuck and dumped into a corner with nothing but a broken heart. 

 

They're the ones who did something wrong yet they're the ones getting rewarded from it? How in the world was that even remotely fair? 

 

Here Harry was, back to square one for which felt like the umpteenth time in his life, attempting to start over when he knew from previous experiences that it had never worked out well for him. 

 

Maybe he was just delusional about this whole thing. What the hell was he even going to do now? Sit at his mum's house every second day having afternoon tea and playing scrabble? Third wheel his sister's marriage or even Zayn's and Liam's? How was that fair to them? 

 

It was just that, Harry didn't know what to do anymore. 

 

He felt lost and alone and scared. It was like starting all over and he had nothing. How does something come from nothing? 

 

***

 

Harry was moping. Again. Nothing new, really. 

 

It was just that now, his whole divorce was finally over. Everything was done and dusted and he didn't know what to do with himself anymore. 

 

Zayn was there. He was always there.

 

He came to Harry's immediately after Harry returned from court, a tub of rum and raisin ice cream and pound cake in hand-- Harry's favorite dessert. Harry was so grateful, he wanted to cry. 

 

So, he did. 

 

Then Zayn hugged him, held him through it and they started to eat the odd mixture of sugars while South Park played in the background. Zayn looked at him with sad eyes every time Harry brought a spoonful of ice cream and cake into his mouth. 

 

"At least it's over," Zayn said, after a moment of silence. 

 

He could tell Zayn didn't know what to say. If he were in Zayn's position, he wouldn't know what to say either. 

 

It was difficult and sensitive; these types of situations where you're afraid saying one word might tick the person off. 

 

"It is," Harry said, unsure of what else to say because he too wasn't sure how to even have a conversation in that moment. 

 

Maybe it was best that they didn't and rather, enjoy the silence. It wasn't uncomfortable by any means. It was actually  soothing , if he was being honest. 

 

"You want to watch something?" Zayn asked, his big brown eyes staring at Harry, eyebrows pinched together. 

 

"Hmm...," Harry trailed off, his eyes landing on the remote on the coffee table, contemplating. 

 

He thought about everything for second. His mind felt exhausted and therefore his body felt exhausted too. His eyes were burning and eyelids felt droopy plus his nose was a bit stuffy.

 

But, for once in his life, he just wanted to go out instead of staying at home to watch Netflix. 

 

"No," he said, watching Zayn's eyebrows shoot up, "let's go out." 

 

Zayn looked at him as if he was confused. "You're sure?"

 

"One hundred percent," Harry said decisively. He placed his bowl down onto the coffee table, landing with a loud thud, and got up, "I need to get hammered tonight and you're going to be a wonderful best friend and come with me." 

 

Zayn seemed apprehensive. He placed his bowl down, too, only a little bit more gentle than Harry's abrupt move. "H, alcohol, really?" 

 

It sounded like a disappointed parent, asking if their child had gotten drunk again or failed a test of some sort. 

 

"Zayn, I'm not a child. I can handle this and today out of all days, I really need it," Harry explained in a desperate tone. 

 

"Fine," he agreed but it still sounded forced, "but I'm allowed to cut you off and we can't stay till too late, deal?" 

 

Harry nodded excitedly. He wasn't quite sure why he was so excited. Maybe the thought of finally becoming numb to memories and emotion morbidly comforted him in ways others couldn't (even if it was only temporary). 

 

"H, are you sure about this? You might not be in the right state of mind right now," Zayn said, his voice had a sense of warning, but was still soft. 

 

"Isn't this supposed to be the part where I actually get taken to some pub or bar and my best friends encourage me to actually drink my arse off and hook up with some guy because, 'I deserve better than that pig,' as the best friend would normally say?" 

 

Zayn smirked, small and annoyed but fond at the same time. "You watch too many chick flicks," he shook his head, grabbing his jacket off the back of the couch and standing up. 

 

"Don't gender movies," Harry mumbled as they headed towards the door. 

 

He was trying to be in a better mood because he was, frankly, tired of being sad. Added that to the thought of having some alcohol and he was definitely much happier than a few minutes prior. It was funny how that-- somewhat--- changed in such a little amount of time.

 

Zayn just gave him a look that Harry couldn't quite place, but he didn't say anything. 

 

The two reached a local club at about nine, which was fairly early from what Harry remembered from back in his clubbing days. But it was fine, he wasn't really looking for a crowd per sé--- just wanted to have some fun of his own. With Zayn of course. 

 

"So you remember our deal, right?" Zayn asked as they entered the club, Zayn offering to pay for both of them.

 

Harry thanked him and nodded. He ordered a vodka tonic and seated himself on the bar stool, his eyes gazing around the small amount of people that were in the club. 

 

There were a group of girls in one corner, sitting on a long couch and sharing a hookah between the four of them, laughing and talking. Another group of boys and girls at the end of the bar who drank their beverages fairly quietly (Harry suspected they were high). Then there was another group of people amongst a few singletons that was, no doubt, the loudest and kind of irked Harry. Maybe Harry was just getting old. 

 

"You're chugging that thing down as if it's a glass of water, H," Zayn eyed his now empty glass. 

 

"It's been a while and I enjoy the burn of vodka, you know that," the nonchalance in his voice scared him. 

 

It seemed that it scared Zayn, too, "maybe this should be your last," he said as Harry ordered another one. 

 

"Zayn, we've been here for, like, ten minutes," Harry waved him off, his eyes on the group of people that were making a noise at the right end of the club again. 

 

"And you're halfway through your second drink," Zayn gestured at his drink with a raised eyebrow. 

 

"You're no fun, I'll be fine," Harry shrugged, sipping his drink quickly. 

 

"Harry, at least slow down, mate," Zayn placed a hand over his shoulder, almost as a warning. 

 

"Z, we used to be much worse than two drinks in ten minutes," Harry shrugged his hand off, getting agitated, "You're no saint." 

 

"Yes and we aren't 21 anymore either," he hissed just as Harry placed his second finished glass on the bar counter. 

 

The music was gradually getting louder and there were tacky neon signs placed everywhere; for the bathrooms, the bar, the exits etc. The lounge sets placed at every corner were a silver, textured material and the DJ booth was at his left, the DJ looking as lively as a zombie. 

 

This club really was dull. 

 

"Lets go to another club," Harry said, jumping off his stool. 

 

"No, I'm cutting you off now," Zayn sighed, setting a hand on Harry's hip to keep him steady. 

 

"No," Harry drawled out in a loud whine that gained the attention of the group nearest to them--- the loud one, oddly enough. 

 

"Harry, come on," Zayn insisted, pushing him forward and towards the exit. 

 

"Zayn, I've only had two drinks, come on," Harry pulled Zayn's hand off his hip and towards the bar area again. 

 

"Harry,  _ no _ ," Zayn warned him with a stern gaze. Harry pouted at him but Zayn wasn't having any of it, pushing Harry away from the bar with a hand on his back. 

 

"Oi!" A raspy, high voice called out. 

 

Zayn and Harry turned around, finding a man with a white t-shirt and black, tight skinny jeans on, his face pulled into a frown as he approached the two of them. 

 

"What?" Zayn asked, a bit harshly in Harry's opinion. 

 

"You can't just manhandle or speak to him like that," the man said, his accent thick and northern, definitely northern. 

 

"Excuse you, mate. Maybe you shouldn't butt your nose in other people's business," Zayn hissed at him.

 

The man was shorter but he somehow seemed more intimidating just by the look he was giving Zayn. 

 

"I don't care who you are, mate. You aren't allowed to treat anyone that way." 

 

Harry, for some odd reason, remained quiet. He blamed it on the alcohol. It was probably also under the alcohol's influence that he couldn't stop staring at the man. Even if he wasn't staring back at Harry. 

 

"Oh for fucks sake," Zayn sighed, exasperated, "Harry, let's just go please?" 

 

Harry finally looked at him with a frown on his face, "one more drink, Z," he pleaded. 

 

If looks could kill, Zayn would have killed Harry right at that moment. 

 

"Harry, we made a deal," Zayn reminded him, his teeth gritted. 

 

"Hey, I will call the manager if you don't stop harassing the guy. He wants another drink for fucks sake," the man said. 

 

Harry stared at him again, noticing how deep and blue his eyes were. That was so cliché. Who even notices the depth of a colour of someone's eyes? 

 

The man caught him staring and smiled at him, his features softening marginally. Harry blushed and looked away. 

"Okay, listen dickhead, he's my friend and he's going to be passed out drunk if I don't cut him off, so fuck off," Zayn warned, his voice dangerously angry. 

 

Harry realised that Zayn was genuinely getting really angry and that was never a good thing. Zayn hardly got angry so when he does, it was pretty scary and something Harry had only experienced a handful of times in his life. 

 

"He's, um, thank you but he's my friend and we should go home," Harry said hastily, placing a hand on Zayn's arm, noticing how much he leaned over towards the man.

 

"Are you sure? I can get him kicked out if you'd like?" The blue-eyed man asked Harry, his tone noticeably kinder when he spoke to Harry. 

 

"I'm very sure," Harry smiled, "thank you." 

 

The blue-eyed man seemed reluctant but he stepped away, not before passing a glare towards Zayn and turning around to what Harry noticed was the loud group. 

 

Even as the man sat down, he still kept his eyes on Zayn and Harry. 

 

"Come on," Zayn whispered, turning Harry towards the exit with a hand around his waist. 

 

"You really are a lightweight, fuck," Zayn muttered as he helped Harry buckle his seatbelt, "two vodka tonics and you're basically drunk." 

 

"At least I don't need a lot of money to get drunk then," Harry giggled into his shoulder. 

 

He could spot Zayn rolling his eyes as he buckled himself in. They remained quiet for the rest of the ride and Harry, in his hazy state, realised how quickly alcohol could work on him. It was barely half an hour. Maybe that's why Zayn agreed to take him out. 

 

It was a shame. He would have loved to stay a little longer, maybe dance a little--- maybe dance with the handsome blue-eyed stranger just for fun. He used to do that back in his uni days, dance around with strangers just for the fun of it, give and receive blowies in a dirty club toilet and go home with random guys. 

 

It was fun for a while but then he wanted to settle down and get married. Harry scoffed softly. So much for that. 

 

"Come on, H," Zayn squeezed his shoulder. Harry sat up, pushing his head off of the window. He hadn't even realised he was leaning against the window in the first place. 

 

Harry unbuckled his seatbelt (with Zayn's help) and walked back to his flat, Zayn's arm around his waist. 

 

He wasn't really stumbling because he couldn’t see straight, he was just really tired. 

 

"Go to bed, I'm bringing you some water and an ibuprofen," Zayn ordered. 

 

Harry sighed but did as he was told, wanting nothing more than to go to bed. He shimmied off all of his clothes with a bit of difficulty and snuggled underneath the covers. Zayn made it into the room just as Harry covered his naked body with the duvet. 

 

"Here," Zayn placed the tablet and the glass of water on his nightstand and grabbed the bin to place at the side of his bed. 

 

"I'm not going to throw up," Harry grumbled, popping the pill into his mouth and swallowing it down with a sip of water. 

 

"You and vodka don't mix and I should have known better," Zayn shook his head and sighed, as if disappointed in himself. 

 

"I'm feeling lighter, if that helps," Harry hummed as he pushed his head into his pillow again. 

 

Zayn smiled fondly at him, "in a weird way it does," 

 

"You're a good egg," Harry smiled at him. 

 

"Thanks," he snorted, "and you need to learn how to control your alcohol." 

 

"Never," Harry smiled mischievously, then let out a loud yawn. 

 

"Please get some sleep and call me in the morning, yeah?" 

 

Harry nodded, his eyes drifting. "That guy really annoyed you, didn't he?" He slurred out, voice filled with slumber. 

 

"Didn't know what the fuck he was saying. Annoying fucker," Zayn grumbled, grimacing. 

 

Harry snorted, "he was just being a decent human being." 

 

"Who you also couldn't stop staring at," Zayn smirked. 

 

"He was quite attractive," Harry shrugged. He had no issue admitting when another person was attractive. He had always done so because he was just that type of person. 

 

"Right," Zayn huffed, "get some sleep, H. Call me tomorrow." 

 

"Bye, Z. Thank you," Harry murmured. 

 

The last thing Harry saw was Zayn's kind smile before slumber took over. 

 

*** 

 

It was a particularly lonely night, close to Christmas where Harry felt  desperate need for company but he was also too lazy and too cozy underneath his blanket to go anywhere. 

 

It wasn't as if he could go anywhere, anyways, because Zayn had gone with Liam to visit his family and he was only going to leave on Christmas Eve to his mums place for a few weeks until after new years. 

 

He also applied for a few new jobs that demanded less hours of work and that he felt he would enjoy still. Two were at a children's hospital and one was at a school to be their nurse. He wasn't too keen on that one, and none of them paid as much as his previous job, but he supposed that made sense since he wasn't going to be working as much. 

 

He wasn't in the mood to do much tonight though. So that also meant he wasn't really in the mood to cook. He also didn't have anything in his fridge or his pantry to make much anyways. And his stupid stomach had a craving for greasy onion rings and a bacon cheeseburger from the pub down the road. That was definitely not something he could make either. 

 

With a loud groan, he shoved the thick blanket off of his legs and grabbed his coat. He tightened it around himself as he got into his car and put the heater on as he drove to the local pub he, Zayn and Liam normally go to. 

 

He could have walked but he wasn't up for it and it was too cold for him to do so.

 

Inside, the pub was extremely warm, much to Harry's delight and it was positively buzzing. It was packed to the point where Harry had to maneuver his way through people to get the bar counter and order his food. 

 

He sat on an empty stool, waiting for his food after he ordered it, scrolling mindlessly through his phone, liking a few Instagram posts here and there when he heard a vaguely familiar voice greet him. 

 

He looked up and to his right, seeing the same blue-eyed man from the club he saw a week ago. 

 

Harry wouldn't lie, the man looked even more attractive now; up close and with clear vision. 

 

He only ever spoke about the man with Zayn again the next morning and Zayn was still very much pissed off at the handsome stranger, claiming he had no right butting into their business. Harry found it sweet that he stood up for a stranger who did seem distressed even though the situation was misunderstood. 

 

He wouldn't say he couldn't stop thinking about the stranger with whom he had all but a five-minute encounter with but his eyes haunted Harry in his sleep. They were just very... captivating. 

 

"Hello?" The stranger said, searching Harry's face. 

 

Harry blinked, "uh, sorry, hey," 

 

"You do recognise me, right?" Blue Eyes knitted his eyebrows together, cocking his head to the side. 

 

"Yeah, yeah. I do," Harry said quickly and straightened himself up, "th-thanks for that by the way." 

 

"So you did need help with that douchebag then?" He frowned. 

 

"No, no. He was my friend and believe it or not, that was him helping me," 

 

"He didn't look too happy about It," Blue Eyes muttered. 

 

Harry chuckled, "we may have made a deal that I didn't keep my end of so he had to force me out of there. It's okay though. I hate having hangovers." 

 

"A deal, huh?" 

 

Harry assumed it was his way of asking Harry what the deal was without coming on too strong or being too invasive. 

 

"Long story," Harry chose to answer with, "my name is Harry by the way." 

 

"Louis," he held out his hand. 

 

Harry graciously accepted the gesture and shook his hand, feeling small sparks shoot up his fingertips. 

 

"Unusual name," Harry remarked. He had to admit, in an odd way, the man did look like a Louis. 

 

"That's me mum for you," Louis smiled softly, "You ordering more alcohol tonight?" 

 

"Uh, no," Harry shook his head, willing himself to stop staring into Louis' eyes, "just waiting on my food." 

 

"Waiting for some company too?" Louis asked, eyebrow raised. 

 

"No, just my lonely self," Harry chuckled nervously. 

 

Who even said stuff like that? 

 

"Well, Harry, if you'd like, why doesn't your lonely self join my lonely self at that booth over there," he gestured behind him where Harry saw an empty booth with a plate of chips and a glass of beer. 

 

Harry bit his lip, contemplating. "Hmm... Okay," he agreed. 

 

"Yeah?" Louis seemed surprised. 

 

"Yeah, why not," Harry shrugged, "You seem more entertaining than me watching The Vow for the hundredth time." 

 

Louis barked out a laugh. "I'm going to take that as a compliment." 

 

"Of course," Harry smiled. Just then, the bartender passed over a brown bag of food to Harry. Harry thanked him and got off his seat. 

 

"Shall we," Louis held out his hand in the direction of the table. 

 

Harry followed him to the table and sat opposite Louis. It felt a bit awkward, admittedly, but not as awkward as Harry thought it would be. 

 

"So, tell me why you're eating by yourself at a pub on a Friday night," Harry said, pulling out his burger and his onion rings. 

 

"Like doing things by myself sometimes," Louis shrugged, chewing on a chip. 

 

"Really?" Harry pinched his brows together. 

 

"Yeah. Nothing wrong with wanting to be by yourself," Louis shrugged again nonchalantly and chewed on another chip. 

 

"Wow," Harry jutted out his bottom lip, impressed, "I'm always paranoid about people judging me." 

 

"I think I was at first too but I got over it." 

 

"I should try it more often," Harry murmured, finally taking a big bite of his burger. 

 

"Wehey, man with an appetite. I like it," Louis smiled, his eyes crinkling. 

 

"Sorry," Harry attempted to say, muffled by his burger in his mouth which also caused a few pieces to come out his mouth. 

 

Louis laughed loudly and covered his mouth. "You really know how to make a first impression, Harry." 

 

"Sorry," Harry apologised again, his cheeks boiling hot and gaze cast downwards. 

 

"Its all right. We all have those moments," Louis grinned. 

 

Harry really liked the way his eyes crinkled when he smiled. 

 

"So tell me why your lonely self decided to come to a pub for takeaway on a Friday night," 

 

Harry pursed his lips and sighed, "I had a craving for their burger and they don't deliver." 

 

"But how on earth could you be alone on a Friday night?" 

 

"What do you mean?" Harry frowned. 

 

"Look at you," Louis pointed at him with a chip, "I’m sorry if I sound presumptuous but you must have people falling at your feet." 

 

Harry blushed but the snorted, "is this something you say to seduce people?" 

 

"No, I'm just an honest person," Louis lifted his shoulders up and raised his hands up. 

 

"Well, for your information, the reason why I was trying to get drunk at the club where you first met me was to get over an ex." 

 

"They broke up with you?" Louis asked

 

"Something like that." 

 

Louis cocked his head to the side, not trying to push for an answer but still curious. 

 

"He cheated on me," Harry grimaced, looking down at his half eaten burger. 

 

"Fuck," Louis breathed out, "I'm so sorry." 

 

"Its all right," Harry sighed, "still hurts because we were married, but I guess I'm going to just have to get over it." 

 

"Wow, married," Louis widened his eyes, "What an arse." 

 

"Thanks," Harry twitched his lips up into a crooked smile. 

 

"You're comfortable talking about it to someone you barely know. How?" Louis asked curiously. 

 

"I'm honest, too," Harry shrugged. 

 

"Fair enough," Louis mumbled, finishing the last bit of his chips. 

 

"Why only chips?" Harry asked, eyeing his plate that was partially stained with Tabasco sauce and mustard. He grimaced again. "Mustard?" 

 

"First of all, the chips here are incredible. Second, mustard is a great sauce and very underrated." 

 

"If you say so," Harry smirked and took another bite of his burger. 

 

"So tell me, Harry," Louis leaned forward, his tongue darting out to lick over his lower lip. Harry felt aroused at the sight. He quickly looked elsewhere. "What do you do for a living?" 

 

"Seriously?" Harry snorted. Louis gave him a dead serious look. 

 

"Well, I was a nurse at St. Andrews hospital, but I quit recently and I've applied for other jobs in the same field but with better hours," Harry explained, grabbing an onion ring and popping it into his mouth. He almost moaned. 

 

"I can imagine. That hospital is always busy." 

 

"Most hospitals are," Harry replied, amused. 

 

"Shut up," Louis mumbled, a slight smile on his face. 

 

There was a moment where they just stared at each other, their eyes connected in an intense gaze neither of them understood but neither of them broke. 

 

A loud cheer was what caused them both to eventually blink away from each other. Louis cleared his throat and sipped his beer. 

 

"So what do you do?" 

"I'm a photographer for The Calibre magazine," 

 

"The interior design one?" Harry asked excitedly. 

 

"I assume you're familiar with it then?" He asked with a grin. 

 

"Those pictures are the reason why I buy most of the expensive furniture I cannot afford." 

 

Louis chortled. "I'm not sorry for that." 

 

"Its all right. Just means you're good." 

 

"Hey, do you want a sip?" Louis offered, pushing his beer towards Harry. 

 

Harry gave him a grateful smile, taking a tentative sip of the alcohol. 

 

"I think I'm full," Harry groaned, leaning back and patting his stomach. 

 

Louis chuckled and took his beer back, taking a much bigger sip than Harry had. "Do you want to go outside? I need a smoke." 

 

"Um, do you mind bumming me?" 

 

Louis' eyes widened comically and smirk appeared on his face. 

 

Harry's face reddened, his neck heating up. Why the fuck would he say that? 

 

"I--- I didn't mean--- will you lend me a cigarette is what I meant," Harry stuttered. 

 

"I know," Louis smirked. He pushed himself out the booth and fished out a few notes, placing it on the table. 

 

"I'm sorry," Harry mumbled out an apology, still embarrassed. 

 

"Its all right," Louis laughed, gesturing towards the back exit, "I don't mind bumming you, Harry." He burst out laughing. 

 

"Stop," Harry groaned, covering his face with his hands. 

 

"Come on," Louis said, his laughter dying down as he pushed the door opened. 

 

A chilly breeze hit his face, immediately freezing his nose and ears. He tightened the coat around himself as Louis stopped against a wall, leaning on it and pulling out a pack of cigarettes. 

 

"Here," Louis handed him one and pulled out a lighter. Harry thanked him, watching Louis pull up his jersey, lighting his cigarette underneath his shirt. 

 

Harry swallowed and looked away from the thin line of hair that disappeared into his jeans. Unfortunately, Louis seemed to have caught him. He was smiling smugly at Harry, holding out his lighter for him to take. 

 

Harry blushed and looked down, grabbing the lighter and cupping his hand around the end of the nicotine filled stick while attempting to ignite a flame onto the end of the lighter. 

 

Louis chuckled, blowing smoke out into the cold air then stepped forward. "Cup your hands around it and I'll light it for you," he instructed. 

 

Harry could only nod, his heart rate increasing the closer Louis came towards him. Harry did as he told, watching as the flame caught onto the edge of the stub and hissed to life. He looked up from the cigarette, straight into Louis' eyes. 

 

There was that moment again where they didn't look away from each other for what felt like hours until Louis slowly stepped away, leaning against the wall again. 

 

Harry held the stick between his middle and index finger before blowing out a cloud of smoke, watching it vanish into the night sky. 

 

He walked next to Louis, leaning against the wall,  too. They both smoked in a comfortable silence, occasional sound of smoke being blown out into the breeze. 

 

"Harry," Louis said, his voice sounding extra raspy but still soft. 

 

"Yeah?" Harry looked at him, surprised to see how close he was to Harry's face. 

 

"Are you and Zayn dating or something?" Louis asked, hissing before puffing out some smoke. 

 

"No, no. Like I said, he was a friend helping me take my mind off my ex," Harry said quickly. 

 

He wasn't sure why he wanted to clear things up so quickly but then he also wasn't sure why Louis wanted to know. 

 

"Why?" 

 

Louis gulped. He looked down then dropped his cigarette onto the ground and stomped over the dying orange glow with his foot. In a quick movement, he stepped closer to Harry again. 

 

Harry felt the thump of his heartbeat in his fingertips. 

 

"I want to do something but if you're feeling like I'm overstepping, please tell me to stop and I'll stop, yeah?" 

 

Harry let out a breath, "What do you want to do?" 

 

"I--- I want to kiss you," Louis whispered, moving closer to him, "but if it's too soon or weird or something then just tell me an---" 

 

In the lieu of the moment, Harry surged forward and captured Louis' lips onto his in a hard kiss. He could hear Louis squeak but he reciprocated, his hands cautiously moving to Harry's waist and pulling his closer. Harry's hands cupped his face and tilted his head to the side, his cigarette dropped onto the floor and long forgotten. 

 

Louis bit his bottom lip teasingly, pulling him even closer. Louis tasted like nicotine and mustard but Harry found himself loving it. 

 

Louis was the one to pull away first, breathing heavily, leaning his forehead against Harry's. 

 

"Okay," he said shakily, "that wasn't too much or anything, right?" 

 

Harry laughed softly, "No. Wanted to do that actually." 

 

"Good," Louis smiled crookedly at him, pushing him backwards till his back hit the wall and roughly kissed him again. 

 

He licked over his bottom lip, asking for entrance which Harry gladly obliged to. It felt good to be kissed again. It had been months since he was kissed, he was beginning to think he forgot how to. 

 

As soon as Louis' tongue met his, they both moaned, the kiss growing hotter. Harry pulled away to take a breath, dropping his head backwards and letting out a breathless laugh. 

 

"Am I that bad?" Louis asked with a playful smile. 

 

"No, I just---" he looked at Louis again, taking a breath, "I forgot how much I liked kissing." 

 

"You're good at it," Louis murmured, leaning forward again. Harry thought he was going to kiss his lips again but he went straight for Harry's neck, lapping at the skin delicately then biting at it tastefully. 

 

Harry whimpered, his hands finding Louis' hair and pulling at the strands. Louis made his way downwards, right above his collarbone and nipping at it. 

 

"Louis," Harry moaned. 

 

"Yeah?" Louis looked at him, pulling away. 

 

"Where do you stay?" 

 

Louis seemed shocked, but composed himself quickly. "Above the pub." 

 

"Brilliant," Harry grinned and took control of the kiss, pushing Louis backwards and kissing him again, sloppy and rough. "Take me to your place." 

 

"What, seriously?" Louis asked, pulling away and searching his eyes. 

 

"Yeah, I--- I don't want anything serious. I hope you know," Harry said, still breathing unevenly. 

 

"Uh, yeah, okay," Louis nodded, connecting their lips again in a short kiss then grabbing his hand. "Lets go." 

 

Harry followed him to another entrance that led to a set of flats that looked a bit dodge upon first sight, but Louis' place itself was much more lavish than the building. 

 

The furniture looked like the inside of Calibre magazine, page 16 of the  _ Modern Day Aesthetic _  edition, to be exact. 

 

"Wow," Harry said, looking around. 

 

"Thanks, love," Louis grinned, "wait till you see the bedroom." 

 

Harry bit back a smile and followed him to his bedroom. His bedroom looked just as good as the living area, if not better. The walls were painted grey and the floor was wooden with dark grey undertones. His bedding was plain white with black pillows and a metallic silver-black one in the middle. 

 

The two nightstands on either side of the bed had lamps that Louis then switched on. The right hand side one had post-it notes with a pencil and a water bottle and the left hand side one had an alarm clock. Everything was neat and tidy and extremely satisfying. 

 

When Harry's eyes finally caught Louis again, he was already on the bed, pulling his jersey off. Harry felt arousal pool at the pit of his stomach. His chest was defined yet soft, underneath his collarbones were decorated with words that Harry couldn't quite read. 

 

"You have too many clothes on," Louis sat up against the wooden headboard and patted between his legs, gesturing him to come to that space. 

 

Harry pushed off his coat and then removed his jumper. He was thankful the flat was warm. He unbuttoned his jeans slowly, making sure to look at Louis while he pulled them down. Louis reached down and palmed himself through his jeans. 

 

In a swift movement, he pulled down his own jeans and his underwear, leaving him bare and naked, his cock standing up, slapping against his skin. 

 

"Fuck," Harry cursed, moving forward until his body was hovering over Louis'. Louis pulled him by his hair till their mouths met again, teeth clashing together as they kissed. Louis reached down and pushed Harry's boxers down his bum, Harry having to awkwardly kick them off fully. 

 

When he leaned down again, they kissed and sparks shot up his spine when both their cocks touched. Louis let out a breathy moan, tilting his head to the side. Harry's mouth met his neck, kissing the skin softly. 

 

"Wait, love," Louis pushed at his chest. Harry pulled away slightly. Louis reached over and opened a drawer of his right nightstand, pulling out a bottle of lube and a condom. 

 

"Fuck," Harry cursed, all becoming too real for him. 

 

"You okay?" Louis asked, studying his face. 

 

"Yeah, it's been a while," Harry said, looking down at Louis and swallowing. 

 

"Do you have a preference?" 

 

"I--- not really. My ex liked to bottom so I haven't really bottomed in a while," Harry said, oddly embarrassed. 

 

"That's all right," Louis shoved the condom and the lube at his chest and winked, "I'm good with either one." 

 

Harry laughed nervously, leaning back on his haunches, watching Louis jerk himself slowly as Harry poured some of the lube onto his fingers. 

 

Louis was really a sight for sore eyes. His lip was caught between his teeth, seemingly holding back a moan, his hair was slightly disheveled and his hand moved almost vigorously over his cock, watching Harry with intent eyes. 

 

Harry hoped he wasn't drooling. 

 

He quickly caught himself and warmed the liquid up by rubbing his fingers together before pushing Louis' knees further apart. He looked down and paused at his rim before looking up at Louis. He was pink, fluttering and beautiful, and he hesitated to start.  

 

"Go ahead," Louis strained, still jerking himself off. 

 

Harry pushed one finger into him slowly, watching as Louis' face scrunched up. He leaned down and sucked the head of his cock, pushing away Louis’ hand. Louis let out an obscene moan while Harry played with his tip. He bobbed his head slightly, still not going all the way down on him. 

 

His finger moved  in and out a few times before Louis asked for another. His voice was breathless and high. Harry groaned himself, pulling away from his cock for only a second before diving back in and adding the second finger, scissoring them slowly just to watch Louis’ face twist in pleasure, his neck sweaty and breathing heavy. 

 

Once he was  in with  his third finger, he popped  off his cock and leaned over Louis again, kissing him messily. Their tongues met sloppily, moaning in unison at the sheer dirtiness of it. 

 

"Ready," Louis mumbled against his lips. Harry pulled his fingers out slowly, wiping them on his duvet. 

 

Harry grabbed the condom with shaky fingers and bit the foil paper off the top. He gingerly placed the condom over his cock and drizzled some lube onto himself. The contact  made him groan.

 

He leaned over Louis again, eyes asking him if he was ready. They were dangerously blue and dark, gazing up at Harry with nothing but lust in them. 

 

Louis nodded. 

 

With that, he pushed his tip in slowly, both of them moaning loudly the further he pushed in. He was warm, tight and amazing.  Harry's eyes were shut as he pushed more and more in until his balls met Louis' ass. 

 

The pause felt the longest after that. Harry opened his eyes slowly. They were both breathing heavily, Harry over Louis, staring at each other. He searched for any signs of discomfort--- Harry didn't want to hurt him so he waited until---

 

"Fuck, move, love," Louis gasped. 

 

His head was thrown back as Harry finally started to thrust, his pace slow and teasing as his elbows gave him leverage over Louis. His mouth was attached to Louis' neck, sucking and biting at the hot, damp skin. 

 

The pace was moderate, Harry reveling in how tight and wonderful Louis felt around his cock. Louis’ hands circled around Harry's shoulders, his fingers grabbing the roots of his hair and pulling. Harry grunted in response.

 

Louis' legs wrapped around his waist and pulled him closer. "Fuck, faster," Louis breathed out, moaning. With Louis pulling him so close and tugging at his hair, Harry was in pure bliss.  

 

"Feel so good, fuck," Harry mumbled against his skin, obliging and increasing his pace. He was rewarded by a broken, loud moan from Louis and scratches being placed hastily down Harry's back right till the bottom of his spine. 

 

God, everything felt so good.  

 

Louis reached down suddenly, his right hand removing itself from Harry's skin and pulling at his cock again, mumbling a 'close' into Harry's ear.  

 

Harry missed the warmth of his hand over Harry's skin already. 

 

Harry thrusted faster then, desperate to get them both over the edge. 

 

The room was filled with obscene sounds, their breathing growing quicker. Louis threw his head back in a silent moan, his body spasming as he released over his stomach. His hole clenched around Harry's cock. Harry fell forward, tucking his face into Louis' neck, releasing into the condom with muffled moans. 

 

He pulled out slowly, collapsing next to Louis. 

 

"Holy shit," Louis breathed out, trying to catch his breath. 

 

Harry couldn't even speak, just nodded. He lazily turned his head to the side, his body feeling tired. 

 

"You seem useless after sex," Louis snorted, booping his nose. 

 

Harry scrunched his nose up, "pretty much." 

 

"Fine, stay here," Louis got up, sauntering to the bathroom. Harry bit his lip, watching him walk. His ass was magnificent. Maybe next time he could ride Harry. 

 

Harry paused. There was no next time. Harry made it clear he wasn't looking for anything serious and Louis knew that too. This was just a one-time thing. Right. 

 

Louis came out again with a pair of boxers on, much to Harry's dismay, and passed a damp cloth to Harry. 

 

"Thanks," he said, lazily wiping over his body and finally pulling off the condom. 

 

"Next to you," Louis directed. Harry leaned over and disposed of the condom in the bin before turning to face Louis. 

 

"I'm tired," Harry said, letting out a huge yawn. 

 

"Get underneath the duvet then," Louis said. 

 

And Harry wanted to protest. He really did but his body didn't. He could leave in the morning, it was all right. It wasn't like he should feel guilty or anything because they agreed it wasn't serious. 

 

Harry pulled the duvet over himself, feeling his eyelids getting heavy. 

 

The last thing Harry saw was Louis smiling at him, then hearing a faint 'good night, love'. 

 

*** 

 

When Harry woke up the next morning, he immediately started to panic, not recognising his surroundings until he turned around to find Louis sleeping peacefully, his lips parted and light snores falling out his mouth. 

 

Dread filled his gut. As much as he convinced himself that they agreed on something not serious, he still felt guilty and he wasn't even sure why. 

 

He had to go though. Harry wasn’t ready for something serious--- he was sure of that. He told Louis he was trying to get over his ex. He wasn't over Alex at all. 

 

Besides, he wasn't going to make the same mistake he did the first time 'round and jump into a relationship so quickly right after his divorce, because clearly that didn't work out well for him. 

 

And Louis... Louis was lovely and a beautiful person. He deserved better. Someone who was willing to be in a committed, loving relationship. Harry could not be that person, that he was sure of. 

 

With a heavy heart, he slowly and carefully got off the bed, grabbing his discarded boxers and shimmied them on. 

 

After pulling on his jumper, his mind wouldn't let him leave without at least leaving a note so his eyes landed on the post-it notes and pen. He leaned down, grabbing the pen and writing a short note for Louis. 

 

_ Louis,  _

 

_ I'm sorry for leaving so abruptly. I had a wonderful time last night and I hope you don't think less of me for leaving the next morning like this.  _

 

_ I hope there's no hard feelings between us and I hope to see you some time again in the future, maybe when I'm in a better place in my life and we can reconnect.  _

 

_ For now, I'm afraid, like I said last night, not looking for anything serious. I can't do it right now.  _

 

_ I hope you understand.  _

 

_ Kind regards,  _

_ Harry x  _

 

It seemed a bit tacky and Harry felt dirty and immensely guilty but he had to remind himself he didn't have to. 

 

They agreed on nothing serious. 

 

It played like a mantra in his head, even on the way to his own house in the early hours of the morning and when he went to shower off the night before in his own bathroom. 

 

It wasn't anything serious. Louis knew that too. 


	3. Three

"Sweetheart, you should wear that shirt tomorrow evening," Anne said, looking at Harry’s pink silk shirt with a tilt of her head.

 

"For Christmas?" Harry furrowed his brows together.

 

"Yes, you always love dressing up for Christmas."

 

His mum turned around, placing a tray of biscuits in the oven. She removed her red, black and white oven mitts and gave him a pointed look.

 

"So... what makes you think I don't have a better shirt for tomorrow?"

 

"I'm just saying. You should look extra nice tomorrow, you know?"

 

"Mum," Harry sighed, his shoulders sagging forward, "What did you do?"

 

"Nothing, nothing," she said, then sighed upon seeing Harry's unconvinced look, "all right, well I may have said we would go over to Jo's place for lunch tomorrow."

 

"Your new best friend?"

 

"That's the one," she smiled, but Harry could see in her eyes that there was something she was hiding.

 

"So you want me looking all dressed up for your friend, huh?" He asked, raising his eyebrow and crossing his arms over his chest.

 

"Well," she started, looking down almost shamefully, "she may have invited her son--- you know, the one I told you about."

 

"The one you said I should start seeing?" Harry sighed, scrubbing his hands over his face in exasperation.

 

"Yes, but just--- just talk to him, yeah? You never know, maybe something could happen?" She offered with an encouraging smile.

 

Harry sighed, taking a seat on the wooden bar stool, "Mum, my marriage just ended. Can we not do this? I don't even know if I want to move on. Again."

 

"Sweetie, you're so young---"

 

"And I'm also so done," Harry cut his mum off with a pointed look.

 

"Look, all I'm saying is, maybe... make a new friend? Maybe you need a new friend."

 

Harry gaped at his mother, "are you saying I have no friends?"

 

"No, no," she said hastily, "You have friends but they're also married. Maybe having a friend that's single might do you some good, you know?"

 

"Mum," he began with a sigh, "I appreciate you trying to help, I do but don't push me, please? I'll do things at my own time at my own pace. The wounds are still fresh, you know how that feels better than anyone else."

 

Anne's features softened, "I know, sweetheart. But that's why I'm telling you to not wait around and waste any days. Go and find your soulmate. My own soulmate was right in front of my eyes and I regret not doing anything about it sooner because I always knew in the back of my mind that Robin was mine. Now look where we are. I would do anything to get even a day more with him." She said, her eyes welled up with tears and voice cracking.

 

"Mum," he croaked, his own eyes feeling wet.

 

"Baby, I don't want to rush you. I'm sorry if it seems that way. I just want you to be happy because god knows you deserve that."

 

"I know," Harry sniffed, reaching up to wipe his cheeks, not even realising tears were wetting them, "thank you but I stand by what I said, mum. If it happens, it'll happen in its own time, okay?"

 

"All right," Anne rolled her eyes with a small smile on her face, "I'm sorry, but I also stand by what I said, just go make a new friend, okay?"

 

"I feel like a child," Harry mumbled, pouting, "I remember you saying this to me on my first day of school."

 

"How on earth do you remember that but not to pick up the dry cleaning?"

 

"That was sentimental. Dry cleaning is not."

 

Anne laughed, "You haven't changed one bit; still that sixteen-year-old boy sometimes, I swear."

 

"Hopefully that's a good thing. Still look sixteen, too, don't I?" He smiled exaggeratedly, showing off his bunny teeth and dimples.

 

"I'm afraid you're getting too many wrinkles for that."

 

"Mum," Harry guffawed, "you're supposed to compliment me even when it's not true, remember?"

 

"Harry, that's not how being a mum works," Anne said flatly.

 

"It should," he mumbled, looking down.

 

"All right, look," Anne said suddenly, gaining his attention when she stood up straight, "we have a lot more to do today so I need your help."

 

"Right. Shoot," he made finger guns at her and leaned forward, his arms across the granite island.

 

"You're in charge of dessert for tomorrow while I work on egg salad and mashed potatoes," she looked around the kitchen till she reached the pantry cupboard and pulled out the potatoes, "oh, and I need to make the roasted veggies."

 

Harry got up when his mum tossed him a pack of ginger biscuits, "cheesecake."

 

"Lemon?"

 

"Lemon," she agreed with a satisfied nod.

 

***

 

It wasn't that he couldn't stop thinking about him. It was just that he couldn't get him out of his head.

 

Maybe that was redundantly synonymous.

 

Okay, so Harry couldn't stop thinking about Louis.

 

It was just, he felt a tremendous amount of guilt whenever he did think about him. That was all. Nothing else. Just guilt. That was why he couldn't get Louis out of his head.

 

Maybe he should have stayed the next morning or at least made him breakfast. He didn't do anything wrong but he still felt like a horrible human being.

 

He left a note. A note.

 

He wasn't that type of person. He wasn't someone that did stuff like that.

 

He felt a need at the pit of his stomach to go back and apologise for his actions because his mother didn't raise him to be like that. He knew where Louis lived after all.

 

Except, he was a coward.

 

He didn't want to go back and face him. So, they agreed on nothing serious but why did it feel like he did something wrong?

 

He had to get over this. It was the past now. It had been over a week after all. Maybe he could take his mum's advice and make a new friend.

 

That was all he needed right now. He didn't want another random hookup or any type of relationship other than a new friendship.

 

It still felt wrong to refer to Louis as a hookup. He was more than that. Even though Harry barely knew the guy, he still felt like referring to him as something as detached as a 'hookup' was wrong.

 

"Harry, where has your mind gone, darling?" His mother asked, glancing at him while she drove.

 

"Just thinking about some work stuff," he waved her off.

 

"How's that going?" She asked, realisation dawning over her features.

 

"Its all right. Just applied for some new stuff recently and I'm hoping to hear back from them soon."

 

"That's great, Harry," she patted him shortly over his shoulder.

 

"Oh, wow," Harry commented as they came to a stop outside a huge, red-bricked house.

 

"Its better inside," Anne said, smiling as she gazed at the house too.

 

"Its pretty big,"

 

"She has five kids, eight in total but the three eldest ones moved out. Her son is the oldest of the bunch."

 

"Wow, she must be a saint."

 

"She's wonderful," she said, unbuckling her seatbelt, "let's get the stuff out the car."

 

Harry followed her lead, helping her get out the dishes of food and dessert from the back of the car. He was quite proud of how great his cheesecake looked.

 

Smiling proudly at himself, the two stood at the threshold of the house, his mother knocking on the door twice.

 

A woman, looking no older than her mid-thirties, opened the door with a friendly smile on her face.

 

"Anne," she greeted happily, pulling her friend in for a hug (as best as she could with the trays of food in Anne's hands). "You must be Harry," she said with a grin, "You can call me Jo, or Jay works, too."

 

"Nice to meet you," Harry said politely. He shifted the dessert tray and mashed potatoes into one hand, extending his other for a handshake but Jay--- Jo?--- pulled him in for a hug instead. Even though he was startled, he reciprocated the hug.

 

"You're just as handsome as your mum described you to be," she cupped his cheeks and smiled, stepping to the side to let them in.

 

"You said I was handsome," Harry whispered in a hiss to his mum.

 

"You are," Anne shrugged, following Jay--- Jo?--- to the kitchen.

 

Harry shook his head, smiling. The inside of the house truly was better than how it looked outside. There was a grand staircase in the middle of the house, a living room that Harry only had a glance of as they headed to the kitchen but looked just as big and luxurious as the rest of the house.

 

The kitchen was white and bright red. Harry wasn't too fond of the colour combination but this kitchen in particular made it work. The island in the middle was white marble and the three bar stools accompanying it were white leather with red legs.

 

Three girls sat on each one, each one looking identical to --- who Harry was sure was their mother--- Jay. 

 

"These are my girls; Lottie, Fizzy and Daisy," she said with a proud grin on her face.

 

"Hello, auntie Anne," the shortest one greeted first, standing up to hug his mother before walking up to him and giving him a hug, too, "You must be Harry," she said when she pulled away, not even giving Harry a chance to hug back. She looked no older than eighteen.

 

"I am," he smiled.

 

"Oh," Fizzy and Lottie smirked at each other in a knowing way that made Harry feel uneasy. What did his mum tell them?

 

"Nice to meet you, Harry," The other sister who had a striking resemblance to their mother, got up, extending her hand for a handshake. "I'm Fizzy, and you just met Daisy there."

 

The last sister then stood up and did the same, each with smug smiles on their faces. She introduced herself as Lottie.

 

"Oh for heavens sake, put those down, Harry," Anne said, grabbing the trays from him before he even obliged. She placed them on the edge of the island.

 

"My other daughters are setting up the table and my son should be down any second now."

 

"What can I do to help?" Harry asked.

 

Jay, Harry settled on calling her, smiled, almost as if she were proud, "Oh, you're just a sweetheart," she placed her hand over her chest, "You can place these on the table."

 

She handed him a stack of black placemats.

 

"Thanks."

 

"Daisy can help you. Fizzy and Lottie need to help me in the kitchen," she informed the girls with a stern look only to hear them groan.

 

"I'll help too, of course," his mother said.

 

"Come on, Harry," Daisy gently grabbed his elbow and guided him towards what Harry presumed was the dining room.

 

A rectangular, glass table stood in the middle of the room, tall, suede black chairs at each space. Family photos were hung on what seemed like every inch of the walls around them.

 

"Your home is lovely," Harry said off-handedly, gazing around.

 

"Thank you," said someone with a voice that Harry didn't recognise.

 

He was met with what seemed to be Daisy but then he turned to his right and there Daisy stood with an amused smile on her face. He blinked twice, seeing that this girl, who wasn't Daisy, still stood in front of him.

 

"This is my twin sister, Phoebe," Daisy introduced them, a hand on her sisters shoulder, both of them looking like they were on the verge of laughing.

 

"Oh," Harry let out a breath, mixed with a short laugh, "Nice to meet you, Phoebe." He shook her hand politely.

 

"I'm Doris," a smaller girl with bright orange hair greeted him, her eyes a brilliant blue that jolted something inside of him.

 

"Hello," Harry said with a kind smile. She walked up to him and hugged him. Harry was startled again, but hugged her back.

 

Seemed like most of them were huggers.

 

"Our brothers are upstairs. Probably playing FIFA," Phoebe said, rolling her eyes and turning around, "You can leave these here if you want to go upstairs and play with them. Daisy will take you there."

 

"No, I'm all right," Harry declined politely, "I'll put these on the table," he said, walking up to the magnificent glass table and starting to place the placemats by each seat.

 

"Your mum is very nice," Doris said, appearing next to him.

 

"Thank you. Your mum is nice, too."

 

"You seem nice, too," she giggled.

 

She looked fairly young. Harry would say about ten or eleven.

 

"Thank you. You do, too," he said back, chuckling himself.

 

Her eyes were hauntingly familiar.

 

"Ah, you're done!" Jay said.

 

Harry looked to see Jay and his mum standing at the entrance of the dining room, a pot roast in her hand. His mum stood next to her, then shimmied past her to place two steaming trays onto the table; the mashed potatoes and roasted veggies she made.

 

Jay placed the dishes on the table and walked backwards so she was out the room and looked up. "Boys!" She yelled, her voice booming.

 

"They should be down soon from just smelling the food," said one of the sister's. Harry suspected that it was Lottie, as she was slightly shorter than the other one.

 

Harry watched as each of them took their place and sauntered around the table to sit on the other side--- near his mother.

 

He was just in a new environment so it was normal, okay?

 

As he sat down, Jay spoke again and his blood went cold, his face paling.

 

"Ah, there they are," she smiled, "these are my sons, Ernie and Louis."

 

If Harry was sipping a drink, he would have spat it out by now. He turned slowly to come face-to-face with the man he couldn't get out of his mind for the past week.

 

Louis' warm smile instantly fell when his eyes met Harry's. "Harry," he whispered, eyes wide and face just as pale as Harry felt his was.

 

"You know Harry?" Anne asked from beside him. Everyone at the table had their eyes on Harry and Louis--- he could feel it.

 

"Um," Louis blinked, clearing his throat, "we--- we met once or twice."

 

Which... technically was true.

 

"Oh," Jay said, her eyebrows knitted together. Snickering to his right caught his attention. It was Lottie and Fizzy, whispering and giggling to each other.

 

And... maybe that made sense. Did they know something? Why else would they be so smug about Harry since he walked in.

 

"Well, that's wonderful," Harry's mum said, although Harry could see her smile was a little tight. She knew something was up. That was even more solidified when she looked at Harry and he knew she could read him like a book.

 

"Well, uh, come join us boys," Jay said, gesturing towards the empty chairs.

 

Harry turned back around fully and looked down, catching a whiff of Louis' cologne as he walked passed. Armani mixed with a nice undertone of cinnamon and vanilla. Oddly enough, it worked well.

 

He heard the scrape of the wooden chairs over the floors as the two sat down. It was only then did Harry notice the other brother, Ernie, was it? He had blonde hair and big blue eyes. Now he knew why those eyes haunted him.

 

"Well, that was a pleasant surprise," his mum said as the girls started to pass around dishes and spoon some onto their plates.

 

"Yes, how wonderful," Jay said, scooping some mash onto her plate, "cut up the roast for us, dear." She said, looking at Louis.

 

Harry looked up to see him nodding and standing up. He grabbed the fork and knife, starting to cut up the meat, leaning over and to Harry's luck, towards his side.

 

As if on cue, their eyes met and Harry's breath caught in his throat. It was as vibrant and friendly as he remembered them to be. It was colder now; hostile and guarded.

 

Harry swallowed and looked away quickly, meeting his mother's eyes. She looked at him suspiciously but didn't say anything. He was thankful for that.

 

"Can you pass me the veggies?" he squeaked out embarrassingly to Daisy.

 

He cleared his throat, his cheeks turning red and dished out the veggies onto his plate. Louis, thankfully, sat down again and everybody at the table started to grab a piece of the roast.

 

Harry looked down at his veggies, suddenly losing his appetite. The air was thick with tension and Harry felt like he couldn't breathe. This was embarrassing.

 

"So, how do you know Harry?" Daisy asked.

 

Harry wanted to groan and hide himself under the table.

 

"Just..." Louis trailed off, while everybody waited in anticipation and looked at Harry, "like I said, I met him once or twice."

 

Daisy frowned, not pleased with the answer but dropped the subject. He was sure everybody could feel the tension between them by now.

 

The rest of the lunch was awkward. It felt like it went on for ages and it was only an hour. When it came to dessert, Anne asked him to get it out of the fridge and, much to Harry's dismay, Jay asked Louis to help him.

 

"No, it's all right, I got it," Harry said quickly.

 

"Nonsense, Louis didn't even help earlier so he should help you now. It's all right," Louis' mum waved him off.

 

Harry gulped and nodded shortly. He walked out the room and to the kitchen, hearing footsteps follow behind him. It was heavy. Everything was heavy. His chest felt heavy, his heart felt heavy and he felt like he was going to collapse.

 

The entered the kitchen silently and Louis was the one to open the fridge.

 

"Which one of these is your dessert?" He asked, eyes still scanning the contents of the fridge, avoiding Harry's eyes.

 

"The--- the green tray," Harry said, his voice small.

 

Louis didn't reply, taking the tray out slowly. "Take out the plates from the top cupboard behind you, would you?" He asked, his voice as raspy as he remembered.

 

Harry turned around, opening the cupboard, "the plain white ones?" He asked.

 

"Yeah," Louis said.

 

He took out the plates carefully and placed them onto the counter. When he turned around, grabbing the plates, he looked at Louis again.

 

There was another one of those moments where they just maintained the eye contact. Louis was the first to look away, grabbing the dessert again and heading to the door.

 

"Louis, I'm sorry," Harry blurted out. Louis froze at the entrance. Harry continued, "I know that it was shitty and I'm sorry for that."

 

Louis turned around. Harry was surprised to see that his whole demeanor was much less guarded.

 

"Yeah, it was shitty," Louis agreed, looking at Harry, "can't say I wasn't surprised."

 

"You were?" Harry frowned. He wasn't sure what he was doing--- where he was going.

 

"Yes, I just thought we had something---" Louis sighed, shaking his head and looking down, "look, it's my fault. You said it was nothing serious but I stupidly thought that you meant you wanted to take things a day at a time or some shit like that. Whatever it was--- I didn't think it would mean you leaving the next morning with just a note."

 

"Oh," Harry said stupidly.

 

"Yeah, _Oh,_ " Louis pursed his lips, "forget it, okay?"

 

He was about to turn around again but Harry stopped him, talking again, "Louis, I really am sorry. You didn’t deserve something as shitty as that."

 

"I didn't," Louis agreed, "but it happened anyway."

 

Harry winced, "I'm sorry."

 

Louis smiled at him but it didn’t quite reach his eyes. Not like the one he saw that day at the pub.

 

He let out a sigh and bit his lower lip, "that guy really messed you up, didn't he?"

 

Harry was taken aback. He nodded and looked down, "wasn't an excuse, though."

 

"You're right. It isn't," Louis said.

 

"I don't know what to say. I am really sorry. I wish I could make it up to you," Harry said honestly.

 

"How about we start with giving me a piece of this cake, yeah?" Louis said, holding up the cake.

 

"Louis, I'm serious," Harry said with a frown. He wanted to somehow redeem himself in any way he could.

 

"So am I," Louis enunciated, "Harry, I'm not going to be that person that holds on to shit like that. It isn't healthy. So just... let that shit go, okay? We can start over if you'd like to. But just as friends because I'm not doing all that bullshit again." Louis ended with a short laugh but it still hit Harry hard.

 

"So does that mean you forgive me?"

 

"Absolutely not," Louis said and Harrys heart constricted, "not until I get some of this cake."

 

Harry didn't laugh though, instead, he said, "I'm sorry," biting his lower lip. It felt weird.

 

Was this actually happening? If he were in Louis' place, he would be so pissed off. Well, they aren't the same person so...

 

"Harry, come on," Louis beckoned him over to the door, "let's just put that past us, okay?"

 

"Seriously?" Harry asked as they both walked out. He frowned. It was all too surreal.

 

As Harry walked closer, he could still see the hurt in his eyes and he never felt more like an asshole than he did in that moment.

 

"Just need to move past this. I think it'll do us both some good," he said with a tight smile but his words were sincere.

 

"Okay," Harry agreed. He couldn't see them being friends any time soon, despite what Louis said.

 

It felt like it was one of those things you'd say at the end of a bad date.

 

_This was nice, thank you. I'll give you a call some time._

 

Or when you see someone you went to school with for a brief moment at a coffee shop or grocery store and promise to catch up with them some time.

 

A fruitless attempt to keep something that wasn't there.

 

So, they ate the cheesecake together. There was small talk between all of them. Laughter between the girls and Jay and his mum. All pretend to be okay between Harry and Louis as they passed each other much too fake smiles.

 

It was okay. It was closure, right? This was what Harry needed. So why did it feel so wrong? Why did it feel like he was leaving something so valuable behind?

 

He shook it off. That was that. End of story. On to the next chapter, right?

 

***

 

Gemma arrived later that day, a sleeping Celia in her arms and husband at her side, along with their luggage.

 

"How long are you staying?" Harry asked, eyeing her two suitcases.

 

"Hello to you, too," she narrowed her eyes at him, "there's three of us in this family, okay?"

 

"Mostly their clothes, if I'm being honest," Joe, her husband, said.

 

Gemma gave him a warning glare.

 

"Nice to see you, dear. Merry Christmas, " Anne greeted with a friendly hug to both of them and a kiss to Celia's head.

 

Harry hugged them, too, and kissed Celia's cheek, wishing them a happy Christmas.

 

"How long has she been out?" He asked as Gemma placed her carefully onto the sofa, her light brown hair cascading down the arm of the sofa and mouth hung opened. Harry chuckled softly.

 

"Pretty much since we left, really," Joe said, sitting himself down next to his daughter and placing her long legs over his. She really was growing up too quickly.

 

"Anything to drink?" Anne asked.

 

"Cuppa?" Gemma asked with a toothy grin. Anne gave her a knowing glance and smiled.

 

"You, Joe?"

 

"Nothing for me. Thank you, Anne," he declined with a smile.

 

Anne nodded and headed to the kitchen as Gemma and Harry took their seats on the couch, too.

 

"I cannot believe how much she looks like Gem," Harry said, looking at his niece.

 

"She looks more like mum. Don't you remember mum's old school pictures?"

 

"Gem, you look like mum, too."

 

"Never mind. Point taken," Gemma mumbled under her breath.

 

"How's things going, Harry?" Joe asked, throwing one hand over the back of the couch.

 

"Its... going," he mustered up a smile, spotting Gemma giving him a sympathetic look.

 

"Mum says you're dating again," Gemma said with an amused smile on her face.

 

"God," Harry let out an exasperated sigh, "I'm not, but she's trying to set me up with the neighbour's son."

 

They both snorted. "Sounds like mum, doesn't It?"

 

"Hmm, yeah, except for the fact that I already know the guy--- already slept with him actually. So that happened," Harry huffed.

 

"Oh fuck," Gemma muttered.

 

"Wow," Joe said, raising his eyebrows.

 

"Yeah. It also ended, um, not so well between us, so that whole Christmas lunch was so awkward," Harry shook his head, leaning back on the soft leather.

 

"Oh god. What did you do?" Gemma sighed.

 

"I might have, sort of, left the next morning after we -- well, we--"

 

"Fucked?"

 

"Joe!" Gemma hissed, appalled.

 

Harry felt his cheeks heat up. "Right. _That_ ," he confirmed.

 

"Harry, that doesn't sound like you at all," Gemma frowned at him, "why did you do that?"

 

"Because I'm still... I felt guilty.  At first, I thought it was because I left and it kind of was--- Like, I did. Trust me, I felt like shit. But I also realised that in my stupid mind, I felt guilty because it felt like I was cheating on someone," Harry mumbled out his last sentence, almost ashamed.

 

He hadn't realised it until he had come home a little while ago. That whole lunch was awkward and Harry felt so, so guilty for what he did to Louis. But he also realised that part of that guilt stemmed from the little bit of his marriage he still held on to. Okay, maybe it was a lot. Or, a fair amount at least.

 

"Well, I'm sure that's normal. Did you at least apologise to this bloke?" Joe asked, crossing his leg over the other.

 

"I did. He said maybe we could be friends but I don't think that'll happen," Harry shrugged, his heart sinking.

 

He would have loved that. From the little time they spent together, they got along so well. Maybe if he hadn't screwed it up and wanted to sleep with him, they could have been friends. The lunch earlier would have been delightful and he would have gotten to know Louis better.

 

"Why not?" Gemma knitted her brows together, leaning forward to look at him at a better angle.

 

"Because," he started with a sigh, "when he suggested It, it felt like--- I don't know--- half-hearted? Like something you'd say to someone just so things won't be awkward between you two, you know?"

 

"Harry, maybe he did actually mean It? I mean the guy is a saint if he did because I would have slapped you if I were him."

 

Joe  chuckled, "she probably would have."

 

"Hey, I left a note, okay?" Harry said defensively, his voice rising.

 

"Oh, God," she groaned, "What did your note say, exactly?"

 

"Just--- just that I had a good time but it was only a one-time thing--- which we both, kind of agreed to by the way-- and that I hope to see him again some time in the future."

 

"What do you mean, 'kind of'?" She squinted her eyes at him.

 

"We--- god this is awkward," he covered his face with his hands.

 

"I've heard worse from you, mate," Joe pursed his lips and reached over to pat his shoulder.

 

"Carry on," Gemma persisted.

 

"Right. We kind of said it was nothing serious? I guess that may have been vague enough for him to interpret it a different way than I meant it," he said, feeling even more embarrassed.

 

"Let me guess, for him, he thought you just wanted to take things slow or something like that," she arched her brow at him.

 

"Something like that," he mumbled.

 

"How the fuck does that make sense? Didn't you guys sleep together?" Joe laughed.

 

"Hey, maybe he thought Harry wanted something casual and not serious between them. He was probably prepared for something like a friends with benefits sort of thing," Gemma said, defending Louis.

 

Joe raised his hands up in defense, choosing not to argue.

 

"You think he really would have done something casual with me?" Harry asked, his eyes wide.

 

"Well, I mean, if, like you said, he interpreted what you said differently, it was probably that. What else would he think, you know?"

 

"I don't know," Harry mumbled just as Anne walked into the room.

 

She handed Gemma her cuppa and sat down on the single chair opposite Harry.

 

"What were we talking about?" Anne asked, smiling at them.

 

"Harry was just telling us about the guy he sl--"

 

"Just telling them about meeting Louis earlier today and how you were trying to set me up with him," Harry cut her off, glancing at her sternly.

 

Gemma widened her eyes and sipped her tea.

 

Anne looked at them suspiciously, eyes shifting back and forth between the two of them.

 

"Did he also tell you that they happened to know each other already?" Anne said, lips quirking.

 

"Um, yeah he was just telling me that actually," Gemma said over her cup.

 

"Oh?" Anne sat back. Harry held his breath, "and did he tell you how or why they already knew each other because he was quite vague about it earlier on."

 

"Didn't get to that."

 

And god Gemma was a bad liar. Harry wanted to crawl into a hole and hide himself there forever. Forever was a long time. That sounded really good right about now.

 

"Oh? Well, okay then," Anne hummed, unconvinced. "I have to say that Jo and I sensed a lot of tension between you two earlier."

 

"Jo?" Gemma asked before Harry could reply.

 

"Louis' Mum," she explained. Gemma nodded and sipped her tea again.

 

"Well--- I mean, I guess," Harry stumbled over his words, "we, just didn't know each other so it was just awkward."

 

"That tension wasn't the 'I don't know him' type," Anne stared at him pointedly.

 

"Oh, God, mum they already know each other because they slept together and Harry left the next morning with just a note in his place or whatever," Gemma blurted out.

 

"Gem," Harry hissed, his heart rate going wild.

 

"Oh god. Is that true?" Anne leaned forward again, staring at Harry.

 

"Yes," Harry gritted out, mostly at Gemma, "but we agreed it was nothing serious and I already apologised to him so let's just move past this, please?"

 

"Well, did he forgive you?" Anne egged on.

 

"Yes," Harry replied.

 

"And tell mum what he said and then add your stupid thoughts on it," Gemma narrowed her eyes at him.

 

Harry gaped at her, offended.

 

"What did he say?"

 

"He said we could be friends but I told her that I don't think he meant it. It was like--- forced?"

 

Anne shook her head, "the boy forgave you, Harry. Maybe you should just make an effort to at least be friends with him."

 

And he hated that his mother had a point. It was the least he could do, right? Offer his friendship. If Louis accepted it, then he would consider himself lucky.

 

"You should see him tomorrow, maybe," Anne suggested.

 

"Oh, I would love to see this Louis fella," Gemma chimed in with a mischievous smile.

 

"Gemma," Anne warned.

 

"I'll be nice!"

 

"Actually, maybe that'll give me somewhat of an excuse to meet him again t---"

 

"No more excuses, Harry. Come on, love. You're better than that," Anne cut him off with a firm gaze.

 

Harry sighed, scrubbing his hands over his face. "I shouldn't have done that in the first place. I'm so stupid," he shook his head.

 

"No, mate. You're heartbroken. People do weird shit when they're heartbroken." Joey said with a sympathetic smile.

 

"Yeah, I guess," Harry smiled back thankfully.

 

"A note, Harry," Anne tsked, "gosh, I raised you better than that."

 

"Mum, go easy on him," Gemma reached over and squeezed his knee.

 

"I know, I know," she sighed, passing him a small smile, "just make it right, okay?"

 

"I will," Harry said with much more earnest in his voice than he would have expected.

 

"Good," Gemma winked at him.

 

Celia woke up soon after their weird, albeit eye opening, conversation.  She didn't let go of Harry the rest of the night. They weren't particularly in a festive mood even though it was Christmas but Celia definitely was.

 

She changed into her red and green reindeer jumper that Anne knitted for her a year ago. She opened her presents with a beaming smile and snacked on all the treats leftover from lunch time right till the late hours of the night.

 

She reminded Harry a lot of himself when he was younger. He used to get excited about Christmas and meeting his family again. Over the past few years, it just felt like the life got sucked out of him and he couldn't pin point when exactly that happened. Maybe that was what scared him the most.

 

Harry was tired by ten and resigned to his bed soon after. He went to bed with his mind set on making it up to Louis somehow. It was quite shitty of him to do so making it up to him was the least he could do.

 

***

 

Harry slept restlessly, his mind too occupied with thoughts and emotions.

 

He baked a batch of gingerbread biscuits for his family at five in the morning to keep himself occupied in the mean time. His mum suggested that he take some to go the neighbour's, i.e. Louis’.

 

So here he was, standing outside the neighbour's house at seven thirty in the morning, his shaky hands gripping a warm container filled with sweet biscuits and a racing heart.

 

He bounced a little on his feet, sucking in a breath of cold air through his teeth. It was a particularly chilly day. Not normally a day he would want to go out of the house, if he was being honest.

 

Come to think of it, lately, there were hardly any days he wanted to get out of his house. It was warm and safe and comfortable.

 

It only took a few seconds of memories of his house hours away before the door swung opened and he was greeted with Jo's friendly eyes and warm smile.

 

"Harry, dear. What a pleasant surprise," she said in a lieu of a greeting.

 

Harry smiled, his cheeks growing numb due to the cold wind hitting against the skin. "Um, hi, I was uh actually wondering if Louis was here."

 

A look of surprise crossed her face. She quickly recovered and stepped aside, opening the door a little further. "Sure but come in first, love. You must be freezing."

 

"Thank you," he didn't hesitate before stepping in and letting out a sigh of relief once the door was shut behind him.

 

"Louis was in the shower last I heard but you're welcome to come into the kitchen for some tea while we wait," she gestured towards the kitchen.

 

Harry could never deny a good cup of tea so he gladly obliged, following her into the kitchen. The very same kitchen where he last had a conversation with the very same person he came to speak to again today.

 

"So, what brings you here so early in the morning, dear?" She asked while switching the kettle on, the static sound filling the kitchen.

 

"Um," Harry looked down at the container warming his hands and held it forward, "I baked some biscuits."

 

She took it from him, grinning and examining the container as if it were a surprise. "Oh, you didn't have to, hon."

 

"No, no I wanted to--- a thank you for yesterday,"

 

It wasn't a lie. He really was thankful for yesterday.

 

"Oh that's so kind of you. Thank you, Harry," she placed the container down on the island and opened the lid, the aroma of ginger and sugar immediately filling the room.

 

"Gingerbread! Louis' favourite," she said, smiling down at the container.

 

And Harry didn't know that. He really didn't. The thought about baking them had just randomly popped into his head at the early hours of the morning. Maybe it was a sign. He stupidly hoped it was.

 

"Glad to know," Harry said with a small smile.

 

The kettle clicked off then. Jay moved to the kettle and grabbed three mugs from the top cupboard, placing them down and then adding three teabags from the Yorkshire Tea box next the kettle.

 

"So," she started once she handed him his tea, a small container of sugar placed next to him and a jug of milk, "You came to see Louis?"

 

Harry knew that she was probably curious to know as to why this person that she barely knew had come to see her son whom he claimed to have barely known.

 

"Um, I just thought I could get to know him a little bit better," he laughed nervously, "Mum is always telling me to share my biscuits so I thought I'd take her advice."

 

Much to his delight, she laughed.

 

"Well, you've brought the right thing to share then. Thank you again."

 

"You're welcome"

 

There was a sound of sipping as they both drank a small portion of their tea simultaneously. It was quiet then. Just the smell of the sweet ginger, warm tea and the cold morning air that died the atmosphere. Something about all of it felt so homey. So cosy--- comfortable.

 

If he hadn't known any better, he would have thought he was sat right at his mum's house on a normal Sunday morning for some breakfast and tea.

 

"Mum, I think I'm going to go out for a drive. Have you seen your car keys?"

 

The voice was becoming all too familiar to him now. It brought butterflies to his stomach and got his heart racing as fast as wind through a water current.

 

Louis pushed the door opened, his eyes finding his mum first then his eyes met Harry's and he noticed Louis' face fall and his steps come to a halt.

 

"Louis, Harry came to visit--- he brought gingerbread biscuits, too; your favourite," Jay said pushing the container closer to Louis.

 

Harry watched closely as Louis blinked once. Twice. Then looked down at the biscuits with a confused frown and then back up again at the two of them.

 

"Um," he cleared his throat, "thanks, I guess."

 

"Louis," she scolded, "come on in and greet our guest properly."

 

Harry sat awkwardly in his seat as Louis stepped further into the kitchen. Suddenly, his insides felt warm.

 

"You two stay in the kitchen. I'll go check up on the girls," she placed her half empty mug in the sink then turned to Louis, "my car keys are in the bowl on the table near the door."

 

With that, she walked out the kitchen sparing the two in a tension filled room. He could hear Louis sigh even though he wasn't looking up at him.

 

"So, you made biscuits, huh?" Louis said, now standing right adjacent to Harry. It was closer than he thought it would be.

 

"Um, yeah, I did," Harry finally looked up and their eyes met again. It was frightening what his eyes did to Harry. He always felt so breathless.

 

"May I ask why?" Louis probed.

 

"Uh, just a--- a peace offering, I guess?"

 

"Other than the cheesecake, you mean?"

 

A slow smile spread across his face, his eyes crinkling gradually. Harry felt a little at ease. He even cracked a smile of his own.

 

"I just really feel awful, Louis. I mean it," he said seriously, his tone desperate.

 

Louis' smile faltered. He looked down, sighing through his nose. "Do you have to be anywhere for the rest of the day?"

 

Harry was taken aback by the question but he hastily replied, saying that he was free.

 

Louis stepped away from the island and looked at Harry. "Fancy going for a drive then? You can bring those biscuits along, too, because they smell yummy."

 

Harry was once again taken aback, but he wasn't about to turn him down, so he nodded and grabbed the container, closing it again, and followed Louis out the kitchen.

 

"Mum, we're leaving!" Louis yelled out, grabbing keys from a brown, wooden bowl placed on a small table at the side of the door.

 

"Don't be too long!" She called back.

 

Harry wondered why she hadn't asked any questions. Maybe she would ask Louis later on.

 

Louis' car was warm inside almost immediately. Harry presumed it was used earlier on that day.

 

He held the container on his lap; the warmth of it now long gone. His leg bounced on the seat repeatedly while he chewed on his bottom lip, gaze fixed outside the window.

 

They moved slowly over the gravel and then towards the roads where it started to slowly drizzle, the small droplets of water accumulating over the windscreen, blurring their vision.

 

"Where are we going?" Harry asked eventually when they approached their second set of robots.

 

"A park," he replied, eyes watching the blurred red light carefully.

 

Harry watched Louis. He had an exquisite side profile; strong jaw, sharp cheekbones. He also had a fluffy, black jacket on that was a touch too big on him. It suited him, though.

 

When the car started moving again, Harry snapped out of his daze and looked out the window again. Only then did it register to him that Louis said they were going to a park.

 

"Wait, a park?" Harry turned on his seat slightly to look at Louis, eyebrows pinched together, "it's raining, though."

 

Louis grinned at him with a mischievous glance, "that's the best time to go to the park."

 

Harry let out a breathy laugh and shook his head--- almost fondly.

 

"If we get wet?"

 

"Then we get wet."

 

***

 

They did end up getting wet.

 

When they got out of the car, Louis ran immediately towards a small shelter that housed a bench, nearby the swing set. Harry followed him quickly, breathing out a sigh of relief once they were both sheltered. It was almost surreal how the rain started to pour down more heavily seconds after they got underneath shelter.

 

"This really the best time to come to the park?" Harry stared at the rain while he asked Louis the question.

 

"Definitely," Louis said. His voice was further away. Harry turned to see him sitting down on one of the bench seats, one arm over the table and the other beckoning Harry over.

 

Harry obliged, placing the container down on the dark wood and sitting himself on the same long seat of the bench but keeping a respectable amount of distance between the two of them.

 

Louis pulled out a pack of cigarettes from his jacket and then a lighter, placing one stick between his lips then doing the same thing he did the last time Harry saw him smoking. He lifted his shirt up slightly to light the end of the stub.

 

Louis offered Harry one which Harry accepted with a grateful smile.

 

"Don't need help lighting that again do you?" Louis said with an exhale of smoke.

 

It was meant to be lighthearted but the subject was still one to be tip-toed around. Harry smiled nervously, holding the lighter to the edge, watching the flame catch onto the white paper instantly.

 

"Finally learnt then."

 

Harry smiled almost bashfully, exhaling smoke too.

 

"How long are you staying with your family?" Louis asked, the cloud of smoke disappearing in the crisp air.

 

"Leaving just after new years. How about you?"

 

"Tomorrow morning, actually. I need to do some work for my boss just before new years day," Louis explained.

 

"Oh, that's so soon," Harry said, kind of disappointed. It wasn't like they didn't live in the exact same area but for some reason he still felt disappointed.

 

"I guess," Louis shrugged, exhaling a puff of smoke.

 

Harry swallowed, tasting the bitter nicotine on his lips after biting them. "Can I see you again when I get back?" He blurted out.

 

He watched Louis pause. He turned to look at Harry, a slight twitch to his lips. "Balls’in your court, Harry. Always was."

 

Harry looked down, guilty bubbling in his stomach. "I want to see you again--- I'm sorry about the last time-- I want to hang out with you. You're--- you---" he cut himself off with a sigh, almost as if he were breathless, "--- I think we get along really well and if you can, I would love to have another chance."

 

Louis studied his face, almost as if he were looking for something. And Harry was determined not to falter.

 

"Have another chance for what, exactly?" He asked, no actual tone to his voice which made Harry anxious.

 

"I--- whatever you'll give me, I'll take it," Harry chose to answer with. It seemed a bit selfish if he had to ask Louis for something. He had already taken enough, hadn’t he?

 

Louis must have sensed something change in Harry's demeanour, judging by his resigned sigh, catching Harry's attention.

 

"Harry, look, you're clearly not in the right state of mind for any sort of romantic relationship, am I right?"

 

Should Harry be offended by that?

 

"I'm not, I guess," Harry sighed, "I was married before this--- before the divorce I already told you about I mean. He cheated on me, too," he let out a humourless laugh, "I panicked with you because after my first divorce... something similar happened and I ended up marrying the guy after like a few months and that, well, that ended well, didn't it?" Harry ended with a sarcastic smile and deep inhale of his cigarette before crushing it onto the damp wood of the table.

 

He didn't dare look at Louis, ashamed already of himself for doing many other things before this.

 

"Harry," Louis said, his voice raw with emotion. Harry looked at Louis to see him move closer, putting his own cigarette out next to Harry's and turning so that each one of his legs were on either side of the bench. "Thank you for telling me that. I'm sorry that happened to you."

 

"Louis, I didn't say that for, like, pity or as an excuse or anything. It's not--- I did something wrong and for that I really am sorry," Harry gulped.

 

"I know," Louis smiled shortly, "look, it's okay, yeah? I mean I wish I would have known this sooner but I understand."

 

Harry shook his head and groaned, covering his face with his palms. "I'm an asshole--- just as bad as my cheating exes." He mumbled into his sweaty palms.

 

"Hey," Louis pulled his hands away from his face, "look at me, Harry."

 

Harry opened his eyes to look at Louis' bright blue ones staring back at him, sincere and earnest. It caused goosebumps to form over his skin, even through his jacket.

 

"You're not an asshole," Louis said sternly, "an asshole wouldn't have tried to... make amends, so to say. You're not perfect, Harry. No one is. It doesn't make you an asshole. It's called character development," he winked.

 

Harry chuckled, "you're too good for this world, you know," he said, a genuine tone to his voice.

 

Louis looked down, blushing, "I don't know about that but in terms of what you're saying," he looked at Harry, biting his lips, "I did suggest we start all over again, didn't I?"

 

"You did," Harry puffed out air from his cheeks, the pitter-patter of the rain gradually coming to a stop. It seemed almost monumental.

 

"I meant it," Louis said, "we can be friends, yeah? It'll work."

 

Harry looked at Louis with hopeful eyes. The rain came to an abrupt stop, the chirping of birds were heard as a glimpse of sunlight peeped through the shelter, shining directly over Louis' eyes.

 

Harry felt breathless.

 

"We can be friends."


	4. Four

**January 2018**

 

It was a slow week after his meeting with Louis at the park. They ended off on good terms, much more than Harry expected.   
  
After they agreed on being friends, they munched on Harry's gingerbread biscuits, watching the sun appear again from behind the gloomy clouds. The birds were chirping again and grass looked greener.   
  
Louis made Harry laugh. A lot. To the point where he embarrassingly spat out biscuit crumbs. Luckily it wasn't over Louis. Louis only laughed though, his eyes crinkling. So Harry laughed too.   
  
They went their separate ways, exchanging phone numbers and Louis dropped Harry off at his mum's again. All of a sudden, it didn't feel so weird anymore. It was as if nothing happened before that between them. Harry wasn't entirely sure if that was a good thing.   
  
But they agreed on being friends and that was more than enough for Harry.   
  
He wasn't sure when to start texting Louis though. That was until his mum thumped him on his forehead and told him to stop being so silly and just text him.   
  
So he did. He texted Louis the next morning to wish him a safe journey home and Louis promised they would catch up once Harry got back too.   
  
Now, Harry was back and they hadn't made plans to meet as yet and Harry found himself wanting to see Louis again.   
  
It wasn't as if they hadn't spoken during the week. They both texted back and forth, although it wasn't everyday or every hour--- it was something.   
  
"Wait, you slept with that rude jackass from the bar?" Zayn asked him.   
  
They were sat on Harry's couch now, aimlessly flipping through the list of movies on Netflix while Harry came clean on what had been happening the past few weeks.   
  
"He's not a jackass and yes I did," Harry sighed, pulling the blanket over his legs.   
  
"Wait, why didn't you tell me?" Zayn frowned, turning his torso to face Harry, "I wouldn't have judged you or anything, you know?"   
  
"I know," Harry sighed again, placing the remote down and matching Zayn's position, "everything happened really fast and we were all preparing for the holidays and I just didn't have time to tell you everything."   
  
Zayn pouted, looking down at his lap, playing with his thumbs. "Could have at least mentioned something," he mumbled.   
  
Harry's lips twitched upwards, "Zayn..."   
  
"All right, whatever," Zayn looked at Harry again, shaking his head, "I still can't believe you left a note."   
  
Harry groaned, slapping his hand over his face, "I didn't know what else to do; if I just left it would have felt wrong and I just couldn't stay because I felt guilty."   
  
"You felt guilty?" Zayn's eyebrows pinched together, he threw an arm over the back of the couch, eyes intent and focused on Harry.   
  
"Yeah--- I-I know it sounds stupid. I just felt like--- I felt like I did something wrong--- like I was still committed to someone else," Harry stammered.   
  
"Wow," Zayn's eyes widened, "I mean--- it's okay to feel that way, I guess. You were married to someone else only a few months ago."   
  
"Yeah," Harry muttered quietly, "but I don't know why I felt that way because we're not together anymore, you know? I should be able to move on now, right? It wasn't this hard the first time 'round."   
  
"Well," Zayn started, Harry knew a psychological analysis was coming his way but he didn't mind. He needed some sort of explanation as to why he felt that way, "this is the second time a marriage of yours hasn't worked out so maybe you're just more closed off now--- Maybe you're holding on to something that isn't there anymore and you just don't realise it. You're too afraid to be vulnerable again after getting hurt so many times before."   
  
Harry took his words in, thinking them over. "Maybe," he agreed.   
  
"You did make amends with--- um, what's his name again?"   
  
"Louis," Harry said, feeling his lips curl involuntarily.   
  
"Right, Louis," Zayn said, not missing the movement of his mouth, "and I'm glad you did that."   
  
"He was really nice about it," Harry said, remembering how Louis acted with him and how forgiving he was towards Harry, "I don't think I deserved it," he said sadly.   
  
"Hey, no," Zayn tutted, grabbing Harry's hands into his, "look you made a mistake and it's okay because we all make mistakes as long you learn from them and I'm sure you have."   
  
"I have," Harry nodded, "I'm glad we're friends now--- I dont think I could do another relationship--- at least not for a while."   
  
"That's okay. Maybe you need to take some time for yourself now. Don't have to rush into anything," Zayn smiled warmly at him.   
  
"You're the best, you know that?" Harry grinned back and pushed himself closer to Zayn so that his head was laying on his shoulder.   
  
"I'm aware," Zayn pulled Harry closer by his shoulders, "have you guys been talking since you've met him?"   
  
"Yeah we spoke a few times during the past week or so,"   
  
"That's good, babe. And is he back here?" Zayn asked.   
  
"Yeah he came back the day after Christmas actually," Harry murmured.   
  
"Oh," Zayn said, then paused, "so are you planning to see him again any time soon?"   
  
"Um," Harry bit his lip, "I am but we haven't texted since I came back."   
  
Zayn leaned away from Harry so he could look at him properly, "H, you've been back for three days now, did you have an argument with him or something?"   
  
"No, no," Harry said quickly, sitting up straight, "I just--- I dont know what to say. Do I ask him to meet me out for coffee? What if he gets the wrong impression or something? He might think I'm asking him out on a date."   
  
"Well, maybe you could invite him for my birthday party next week  Saturday?" Zayn suggested.   
  
Harry bit his lip, looking down. He hummed, "You wouldn't mind? You guys didn't exactly get along," he chuckled.   
  
"Yeah, I know but he's your somewhat friend now, and I believe you when you say he's a nice person so why not?" He lifted his shoulder up in a half-shrug.   
  
"Okay," Harry said, biting his bottom lip to try and contain his smile, "yeah I'll invite him."   
  
"Good, and text him tomorrow, yeah?"   
  
"Why didn't he text me though?" Harry pouted petulantly, "I've texted him first so many times before this."   
  
"What did you guys last speak about?"   
  
"I told him I was leaving on the fifth and he messaged me back, saying I should have a safe trip and that we'll meet up soon."   
  
"Well, maybe he's just busy, H. Even so, it doesn't matter, just text him. See what happens, yeah?"   
  
"Okay," Harry agreed. He turned back around to face the tv again and grabbed the remote, "now can we please watch Black Mirror?"   
  
Zayn chuckled softly, "Yeah all right, let's watch it."   
  
Harry cheered and clicked play while they both cuddled up to each other on the couch. They watched two episodes of _Black Mirror_ before sleep caught up to the both of them. Zayn excused himself, half-awake and took a taxi home and Harry dragged himself to bed, making a mental note to text Louis tomorrow.   
  
***   
  
Harry stood at the island of his kitchen, his bottom lip caught between his teeth and right leg bouncing anxiously.   
  
It had been five hours already since he had sent a text to Louis, and Louis hadn't replied yet.   
  
He wasn't even sure why it was bothering him. It wasn't as if they spoke everyday. They didn't have to answer each other straightaway. Harry never did.   
  
But. He never waited five hours to respond to someone (excluding the times he had to himself after his divorces).   
  
God, divorces.   
  
More than one. More than fucking one.   
  
He was beginning to feel like Ross from _Friends_ . Which would have been funny, except that it wasn't because actually going through it wasn't like how it was portrayed at all.   
  
Harry sighed. He brought the mug of black coffee to his lips and chugged down the last bit before walking up to the sink and carelessly tossing it in.   
  
Just as he was about to turn the tap on, his phone dinged.   
  
He turned around quickly and grabbed his phone, unlocking it only to see that it wasn't Louis who responded to his message, but an email from one of the hospitals he had applied to.   
  
He let out a loud groan, shutting his eyes to compose himself for a minute.   
  
It didn't matter that Louis didn't respond yet. It was okay. He had an email from one of the hospitals he had applied at. That should be better, right? Him getting a job should be better than Louis replying to a one worded text.   
  
With a resigned sigh, Harry opened up the email, his heart stuttering as he read over the words.   
  
A slow smile formed on his face when he read over the words, 'accepted'.   
  
Good God, that was such a relief.   
  
He locked his phone and placed it back on the island before letting out a sigh, exhaling heavily.   
  
So far, Greytown hospital was the only place that responded to him. He still had yet to hear from three other places.   
  
He had confidence that they would find his C.V. impressive but it doesn't mean he would get accepted for the job. After all, there were so many other aspiring nurses and doctors out there now.

  
Although, his interview went quite well. He seemed to leave the room with Dr. Stein being fairly impressed. Still, he was pretty sure he was the oldest from the candidates in the office. Or maybe he just felt like it.   
  
Just as he was about to turn around again, his phone beeped once more. Harry's eyes snapped opened and he grabbed the phone.    
  
_Louis_ : _Hello !_  
  
Harry beamed. His fingers swept over the keyboard effortlessly as he typed.   
  
_Harry: How are you? :)_   
  
Louis' response came almost immediately.   
  
_Louis: I'm good, just tired. How about you?_ _  
__  
__Harry: I'm fine, thank you._   
  
Harry sent the message and bit his lip. He should just ask him straightaway instead of delaying it. It would come down to that question anyhow.   
  
_Harry: So, there's this party I wanted to invite you to. It's my friend's birthday party. What do you say?_   
  
He waited as the bubble with the three dots appeared. Then it disappeared and appeared again. _  
__  
__Louis: um, does this friend of yours know me? Wouldn't it be awkward to bring a complete stranger to your mate's party?_   
  
Harry rolled his eyes.   
  
_Harry: you've met him before. He was with me at the bar--- sharp cheekbones and black hair--- his name is Zayn. You thought we were together. And besides, he asked me to invite you._ _  
__  
__Louis: Pretty sure he hates me._ _  
__  
_ Harry chuckled. _  
__  
__Harry: He doesn't. I told him that you're great so he suggested that I invite you to his party. He wants to meet you._ _  
__  
__Louis: When is it?_ _  
__  
_ He felt his heart stutter as he typed. _  
__  
__Harry: The 12th of Jan. It's at Club Madisons on the roof. 8pm._ _  
__  
__Louis: Shit, Madisons, huh? That place is not cheap. Entrance fee costs my weekly pay._ _  
__  
__Harry: Entrance is already paid for and there's an open bar. You don't have to pay for anything. I can pick you up, too, if you'd like?_ _  
__  
__Louis: Are you sure about this? He wants me there, too, not just you?_ _  
__  
__Harry: Well, I do want you to be with us._ _  
__  
__Louis: yeah, all right, fine. Pick me up at around 7:45. That good? It's not too far from the pub, is it?_ _  
__  
__Harry: barely ten minutes :)_ _  
__  
__Louis: Okay, Harry. Thank you :)_ _  
__  
__Harry: You're welcome, Louis :)_  
  
Harry almost squealed when he put his phone down but refrained from doing so. Instead, he beamed at his phone and did an embarrassing, little dance before trudging up the stairs and searching for an outfit to wear for the party already.   
  
So, he had successfully convinced Louis to attend the party with him and Zayn will be thrilled and Liam, too. Harry was sure Zayn must have told Liam all of his stories by now.   
  
Those two share way too much with each other. They claimed that it was healthy to do that, but Harry would have drawn the line at discussing the shape and colour of their stool.   
  
He really wished he hadn't have heard that conversation. And they discussed it so casually, middle of a restaurant with their friends sitting at the table.   
  
Harry grimaced as he rummaged through his shirts to find one appropriate for the coming weekend.   
  
As he pulled out five options, he grabbed his phone again and decided to text Zayn.   
  
_Harry: I asked Louis to come for your party and he said yes! :D_   
  
Zayn: I finally get to meet the guy again! Probably will have to apologise won't I?   
_  
__Harry: I'm sure he will, too._ _  
__  
__Zayn: Happy for you, H. See you soon :)_   
  
***  
  
Zayn messaged Harry the Friday before his birthday in desperate need of some last minute shopping and checking out the venue for the party.   
  
Of course, Harry happily obliged since he was doing basically nothing at home and was driving himself insane.   
  
They were at some tacky party shop with a mannequin of a man wearing a lei, board shorts and quirky sunglasses outside. Of course, Zayn would choose a place like this for last minute shopping.   
  
"Zayn, I don't understand what you need from here. The venue is providing you with majority of the stuff," Harry muttered off-handedly, examining a headband with two penises sticking out either side with springs so that it moved every time Harry moved the band.   
  
He giggled to himself, meeting Zayn's unimpressed look.   
  
"H, that's for bachelor and bachelorette parties, leave it alone."   
  
Harry rolled his eyes, pushing it back onto the shelf and followed Zayn through the aisles.   
  
"You still haven't answered my question," he reminded Zayn.   
  
Zayn stopped suddenly at the array of different leis. "Just wanted a touch of something else," he spoke absent-mindedly as he looked at the colourful flowers on each one.   
  
"Wow a lei, how original," Harry said flatly.   
  
Zayn glared at him, "it's my party, leave me alone."   
  
"If you want a little touch of something, I would say get those headbands," Harry suggested, ignoring Zayn's request to leave him alone.   
  
"Harry, no. It's too tacky," Zayn waved him off, bending down to look at the rainbow flowers.   
  
"Oh, and leis aren't?" Harry raised an eyebrow at him.   
  
Zayn simply ignored him and grabbed a handful of the leis, shoving them into the basket. He took some rainbow ones, some purple ones and some white ones.   
  
"I don't know why I'm still friends with you," Harry mumbled, loud enough for Zayn to hear.   
  
Zayn gave him a sweet smile and walked to the till. As he took out his wallet to pay, he turned to Harry, "You can get the headband for yourself if that makes you happy."   
  
Harry smirked. He sauntered back to the side of the shop and grabbed a pack of five, pushing it into the pile of leis.   
  
"I got different colours, too," Harry said proudly.   
  
Zayn rolled his eyes, scanning the headbands with a distasteful look in his eyes, "why did you get five?"   
  
Harry shrugged, "if you can get twenty of those," he pointed at the leis, "Then I get five of those," he ended, pointing at the pack of headbands.   
  
Zayn rolled his eyes again and handed his card to the cashier (who had an amused look on her face).   
  
"Liam is going to kill me," Zayn shook his head, carrying one packet in his hand while Harry carried the other.   
  
"I would, too."   
  
"Whatever, it's my birthday," Zayn argued petulantly.   
  
"Where is Liam, anyways?"   
  
"The sports store across the street; he wanted to get some new gyming gear."   
  
"Of course," Harry snorted.   
  
Liam went to the gym religiously. Hell, he even went when he was dog sick and had to be bed-ridden. It didn't end well as he had almost fainted while lifting up a 15kg weight. Zayn and Harry had to literally drag him out of the gym and tuck him into bed, sedating him with some cough syrup so that he could fall asleep and they could stop hearing his consistent whining about how he was 'feeling much better' and he 'had to work out to maintain his muscle'.  
  
"He wants to try swimming now," Zayn commented as they approached the small shop.   
  
"I didn't even know he was interested in swimming. Does he even know how to swim?"   
  
"He does know how to swim but he was never interested in it until his trainer said that swimming is one of the best ways to tone his body collectively."   
  
Harry frowned, "collectively?"   
  
Zayn raised his head up, searching the shop for Liam while he answered, "like tones all parts of your body; thighs, arms and all of that."   
  
"Oh."   
  
"There he is," Zayn muttered, maneuvering his way past people to Liam who stood at the swimming caps, searching the various types.   
  
"Li," Zayn called out as they approached him.   
  
Liam spotted them and smiled. "Hey, how was shopping?" He asked, placing a kiss on Zayn's cheek.   
  
"Well, Harry was judging my taste in party entertainment and forced me to buy tacky headbands that have springy penises on them.,"   
  
Liam barked out a laugh, "what the hell, Harry."   
  
"He wanted leis for his party, that's even more tacky and I didn't force him to buy them; he offered," Harry pouted.   
  
"Oh, he'll get some lays for his party all right," Liam winked at Zayn.   
  
Zayn blushed, looking down, "not in public, Li."   
  
Liam nudged Zayn playfully and gave Harry a wink too before pointing up at some latex swimming caps. "What do you think?" He grabbed two and showed them to Zayn and Harry.   
  
One was a silver colour and the other was plain white.   
  
Harry cocked his head to the side, a furrow between his brows, "does it really matter?"   
  
"Of course it does, I have to look my best when I swim," Liam replied, affronted.   
  
Zayn frowned at him, "looking your best for who?"   
  
Liam huffed, rolling his eyes, "myself, okay? I like looking good and feeling good."   
  
Zayn looked at Harry, raising an eyebrow. Harry shrugged in response.   
  
"So? Which one?" Liam persisted, shoving the two caps back into their faces.   
  
"White," Zayn and Harry happened to say at the same time, smirking to themselves.   
  
Liam placed the other one back and took a pair of goggles from underneath it before going to pay.   
  
They all had lunch at the food court after leaving their packets in the car. While they ate, Liam kept giving Harry weird looks. He couldn't explain what they were. Somewhere between curious and mischievous.  
  
"Okay, what is it?" Harry finally sighed, placing down his burger.   
  
"Nothing, nothing," Liam said quickly, eyes widening, "was just wondering when you were going to bring up this new friend of yours."   
  
Harry groaned while Zayn smirked next to Liam. "Well, I assume Zayn already told you all there is to know about so what else do you want me to say?"   
  
"Tell me how excited you are to see him again tomorrow?" Liam teased, his lips twitching upward.   
  
"All right, Liam. I'm very excited," Harry enunciated, deadpan look on his face, "now can we go back to eating?"   
  
Liam giggled, not saying anything else and popped a chip into his mouth. Harry shook his head, but couldn't help but feel the excitement bubble in his belly.   
  
So he was excited. So what? Didn't mean anything, did it? Just meant he had a new friend. That was something to be excited about.   
  
***  
  
When Zayn, Liam and Harry had checked out the venue the day before, it looked fairly nice but now that Harry saw it in the night, it looked even better.   
  
The whole roof was extraordinary with an impressive view of the city below, lit up and busy. There were a few people piling up already and the bar was the fullest place, which came by no surprise.   
  
The atmosphere was already pumping and Harry found himself even more excited.   
  
"Zayn, this place is incredible," Harry remarked, still in awe.   
  
"I know," Zayn said, smirking. He was dressed in a casual black, button-up shirt and black skinny jeans with a rainbow lei around his neck. "Hey, you going to fetch Louis now? The party starts in fifteen. What time did you say you'll fetch him?"   
  
Harry widened his eyes, "shit," he pulled out his phone from his own skinny jeans and saw the time.   
  
19:40   
  
" _Shit_ ," he repeated and shoved it back into his pocket, "I'm supposed to be there in five minutes."   
  
Zayn snorted, laughing, "fuck, you idiot, go!"   
  
Harry didn't waste anymore time, hurrying down the stairs and to his car. He internally groaned because he had found such an amazing parking spot.   
  
As he got onto the road, he pulled out his phone again and sent a quick text to Louis.   
  
_running late. Will be there soon!_   
  
He carelessly threw his phone onto the passenger seat and pressed his foot down harder over the accelerator. He didn't think he ever drove this fast in his entire life before. He was always a good driver; obeyed the rules and was never speeding when he couldn't.   
  
All that be damned when it came to Louis, apparently.   
  
He couldn't believe he forgot. He was so stupid. He only went to help them set up and he had just lost track of time. If Zayn hadn't reminded him, who knows how late he would have been.   
  
He pulled up at the pub at 19:53   
  
Louis was already waiting outside the pub, a cigarette to his lips and his free hand in the pocket of his black, skinny jeans. He noticed Harry pull up and gave him a warm smile, walking toward the car.   
  
Harry felt his heart race and cock twitch at the same time.   
  
Louis looked gorgeous. He always did but tonight he just looked extra gorgeous. He had a tight-fitting band t-shirt on and a denim jacket over it, the collar lined with fur that looked like sheepskin and to top it all off he wore his signature, classic VANS.   
  
"Hey," Louis greeted him, sliding into the passenger seat then yelped when his bum hit Harry's phone.   
  
"Sorry," Harry sprung into action, mindlessly reaching for the phone, his fingers grazing Louis' bum accidentally.   
  
"Sorry," he apologised again, pulling his phone away, his cheeks hot.   
  
"'S all good," Louis chuckled, pulling his seatbelt over his body.   
  
Harry's cheeks still felt hot, his fingers tingling and shaky as he started up the car again.   
  
"Sorry I'm late," he apologised again, "I was helping to set everything up."   
  
"It's fine. You should have told me, I would have been happy to help," Louis grinned at him shortly before looking out the window.   
  
And god, who was Louis Tomlinson and why was he such an angel?   
  
"Um, are you excited?" Harry asked stupidly, suddenly nervous.   
  
When Harry glanced at him, Louis had an amused look on his face. "To meet a bunch of people I don’t know? Very."   
  
"You'll be okay. You know me, don't you?"   
  
Louis stared at Harry for a touch too long and nodded shortly, his expression soft, "I do know you, you're right. So you better not ditch me."   
  
"Never," Harry promised.   
  
"So, I have a gift card for your friend for a clothing store. Is that okay? Everybody likes clothes, right?" Louis laughed nervously.   
  
"He does love clothes," Harry was quick to reassure him, "he isn't too fussy with gifts so don't worry."   
  
Which was a complete lie. Zayn was one of the fussiest people he had ever met. Push him alongside Liam and you would never be able to satisfy them.   
  
"All right," Louis mumbled. He twiddled his thumbs over his lap.  
  
Harry pretended not to notice how good his thighs looked in skinny jeans.   
  
"How was your trip coming back?" Harry asked.   
  
Louis looked up at him, "it was fine, I've been busy lately so I'm so happy to finally get out and just let loose a little bit."   
  
"That's good," Harry hummed.   
  
"How about you? Any news from the jobs you've applied for?"   
  
Harry's heart warmed. He felt an urge to hug Louis. He remembered.   
  
Granted, their conversation wasn't that long ago, still, it was touching.   
  
"Uh, y-yeah two places so far," Harry caught himself and cleared his throat.   
  
"That's great. And have you decided which one to accept?"  
  
"I'm waiting to hear back from one more then I'll decide from there. I have to look at all the pros and cons again in terms of, like, working hours and stuff," he explained.   
  
"Hmm," Louis nodded, "if you need help with that, I'm always available."   
  
Harry, once again, had to contain his shock. It wasn't like he didn't notice how much of a kind, sweet human being Louis is but he just hadn't expected him to offer something so casually.   
  
Here Harry was, scared to ask this man out for a cup of coffee, thinking it would come across the wrong way, yet Louis just unabashedly offered to help Harry with something as mundane and boring as working out office hours for the jobs he applied for.  
  
"Really?" Harry had to ask, still in disbelief, "You would help me with that?"   
  
Louis seemed confused, judging by his pinched brows, "yeah, I would," he said slowly.   
  
"Thank you," Harry glanced at him to pass him a grateful look, "I'll, um, I'll let you know?"    
  
"Good," Louis said.   
  
They stopped outside the club and struggled to find a good parking spot. They eventually ended up parking a few blocks away from the actual entrance. It wasn't longer than a two minute walk so not as bad as Harry had expected.   
  
It was 20:07.   
  
Zayn's party had already officially started seven minutes ago.   
  
"You're making me seem tardy," Louis nudged his shoulder as they walked into the venue.   
  
Music filled their ears and the strong smell of alcohol and cigarettes was everywhere.   
  
"It's okay, Zayn is never on time either and it's all on me anyways," Harry then did something he immediately regretted; he punched Louis' upper arm softly. You know, that 'bro-pal' punch.   
  
Louis gave him a questioning look, slightly confused as he rubbed his arm where Harry had just punched him.   
  
Fuck, was it too hard? Maybe it was.   
  
"Sorry," Harry mumbled, his cheeks once again developing a tropical burn.   
  
Louis didn't say anything else which kind of worried Harry. They walked wordlessly up the stairs and onto the roof.   
  
"Wow," Louis breathed out next to him, scanning the place.   
  
"Yeah, Liam really loves Zayn.,"   
  
"Who?"   
  
"Right, uh, Liam is Zayn's partner. They've been together for about five years now, I think."   
  
"Oh, sick," Louis said, still looking around, "where is Zayn?"   
  
"Oh," Harry looked around too, spotting his friend nearby the bar area speaking to some of his colleagues from his workplace. "He's over there," he pointed to Zayn, "let's go say hi."   
  
Louis groaned, "God the last time I saw him, I yelled at him."   
  
"I know, so this should be fun," Harry giggled, walking to Zayn. Louis walked with him.   
  
"You're horrible," Louis mumbled.   
  
"Zayn," Harry called out.   
  
Zayn snapped his head in their direction and a slow grin spread across his face. He moved past his friends, patting them on their shoulders and met Harry and Louis halfway.   
  
"So your name is Louis," Zayn said, a smug smile on his face.   
  
Louis chuckled nervously, "that's me. Happy birthday, mate," he thrust his hand out for a handshake.   
  
Zayn gladly shook his hand, "thanks, lad. Glad to have you here. Haz hasn't stopped talking about you."   
  
Harry widened his eyes, his face flushing. God he was going to kill Zayn. He should have known better.   
  
"Oh, is that so?" Louis turned to look at Harry, smirking.   
  
"Don't believe anything Zayn says," Harry glared at Zayn, "he's full of shit."   
  
"Really? That's a shame. I was kind of flattered," Louis cocked his head to the side, still grinning.   
  
Harry stared at him before looking at Zayn again only to be met with Zayn's curious gaze, shifting between Louis and Harry.  
  
"So, anyways, Louis, please indulge yourself in some drinks and I hope you'll be playing pool with us later," Zayn interrupted their moment, smiling at Louis.   
  
"Pool? Oh, count me in," Louis clapped his hands together, "Oh and let me give you your present in the mean time."   
  
Louis reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a small, pink envelope, handing it to Zayn. He seemed shy when he said, "I know it's not much but I really didn't know what else to get you."   
  
Zayn gave him a small smile, "I really appreciate it, Louis. Thank you."   
  
"You're welcome."   
  
Harry grinned. He couldn't help it. His best friend was getting along smashingly with Louis. All good so far, at least.   
  
"Oh and I'm sorry about the last time we met," Louis let out a nervous laugh, "just was a misunderstanding, I guess."   
  
"No, it's all good. I'm sorry, too. He just got me in a grumpy mood," Zayn reached up and squeezed the back of his neck, pulling him closer. Harry didn't miss the way Louis' eyes were stuck on where Zayn touched Harry's skin.   
  
"I'm guessing he makes a lot of people grumpy, doesn't he?" Louis smirked again.   
  
"You have no idea," Zayn let go and winked at Louis.   
  
"Hey, I didn't introduce you two so that you can gang up on me," Harry crossed his arms over his chest, pouting.   
  
"We're just kidding, babes," Zayn pinched his cheek annoyingly.   
  
Harry pushed his hand away, frowning, "this may have been a mistake."   
  
"Oh, lighten up, lad. We're just having some fun," Louis said.  
  
For some reason he felt a little less grumpy when Louis said so.   
  
"Hey, let me introduce you to my lovely man, Liam," Zayn said, gesturing for Louis to follow him.   
  
Louis nodded and they both followed Zayn to meet Liam. Liam was at the pool table already, two bottles of beer in his hand.   
  
"You must be Louis," Liam said instantly as soon as he spotted Louis coming into view from behind Zayn.   
  
"Wow, uh, hi," Louis waved awkwardly.   
  
Liam placed his beers at the edge of the pool table and held his hand out. Louis shook his hand.   
  
"So, Harry really does talk about me a lot then?" Louis looked at Harry again, a smug look on his face.   
  
"Shut up," Harry mumbled, looking away. He leaned against the other side of the pool table, looking at Liam and Louis interacting.   
  
"Not much, no. Just the colour of your eyes and your sharp cheekbones and long eyelas---"  
  
"Okay, Louis, do you need a drink?" Harry cut him off, his voice high and squeaky.   
  
Louis looked like he was holding back a laugh but he nodded anyways. "Sounds good."   
  
Harry grabbed Louis by his forearm gently, leading him away from Liam and Zayn who cackling to themselves.   
  
"No need to be embarrassed, Harry. I know people talk about me all the time," Louis laughed as Harry let go of him.   
  
"I'm sorry," Harry mumbled, blushing.   
  
He hadn't even told Liam about how Louis looked. He may have mentioned it to Zayn during the week but that was about it. He should have known Zayn would have blabbed to Liam by now.   
  
"Don't apologise, love. It's fine," Louis laughed, placing a gentle hand on his shoulder for a brief moment before pulling away once they reached the bar. "So what's your drink then?" Louis leaned over the bar, scanning the drinks.   
  
"Uh, I would have vodka but I don't want to get drunk yet so jack and coke, I guess?"   
  
"Cool," Louis raised his hand up, gaining the bartender's attention. It worked. Of course it worked. He just gained everyone's attention by just walking into a room. "One jack and coke and one rum and coke."   
  
Harry grimaced. "Rum and coke?"   
  
"It's better than it sounds," Louis shrugged.   
  
Their drinks came quickly and they headed back to the other two boys that were still at the pool table.   
  
This time, Liam was gathering up the balls into the plastic triangle and Zayn was chalking up the end of his stick.   
  
"All right, lads. Right to it, then?" Louis asked, looking at the two of them.   
  
"Oh god, Zayn and Liam are the most competitive people I've ever met in my entire life," Harry huffed. He took a small sip of his drink, humming in approval.   
  
"Look who's talking," Liam gasped, affronted.   
  
"Oh, that's fine. I'm quite a competitive person myself so it's all right. Game on, as I say," Louis raised his glass up as a cheers and took a big gulp.   
  
Zayn made a happy noise, "Oh, I like you."   
  
"Only until I beat your ass, that is."   
  
"Oh," Liam drawled out, eyebrows raised, "Okay, Zayn and I will verse you and Harry then?"   
  
"What do you say, H?" Louis turned to him.   
  
Harry was momentarily taken aback by the nickname but he nodded quickly. He didn't know Louis was competitive but damn it was very hot.   
  
"Great," Liam exclaimed and pulled away the plastic triangle, placing it aside, "who's going to break?"   
  
After Zayn versed Harry in an intense game of rock, paper, scissors (Harry won), they finally started the game with Harry breaking. They got stripes which Harry considered his lucky type of ball.   
  
Louis cackled, bending over to hold his stomach after Harry had told him he considered stripes to be his lucky ball.   
  
"It's not funny. It's just a thing of mine, okay?" Harry had pouted.   
  
"Right, right," Louis said, his laughter dying down.   
  
The rest of their game was also just as intense. Louis, Harry realised, was very, very competitive and quite... eccentric.   
  
He was the type of person that rubbed it in Liam and Zayn's faces whenever they had more than two shots in a row.   
  
Harry just stared at him. He found it weirdly hot.   
  
"Ha! Another one. Harold is great at this game," Louis cheered, high-fiving Harry which took him by surprise.   
  
As Zayn played their turn, Louis leaned in closer and whispered something that caused his skin to erupt in goosebumps.   
  
"We're a proper dream team, aren't we?"   
  
He pulled back and winked at Harry.   
  
And yes, they were all fairly tipsy (on the brink of fully drunk), but that was still... that was something?   
  
And that was how the whole night had went. As they had consumed more and more alcohol, they were more and more touchy-feely with each other--- more and more chatty, too.   
  
It was bad because Harry promised himself that he wouldn't get drunk. He had to drive him and Louis back home, after all.   
  
At the end of the night, which was actually the early hours of the morning, Harry and Louis ended up winning and Louis engulfed Harry in a victory-hug, placing a big, wet kiss on his cheek.   
  
"We won, H!" He delighted.   
  
"Hey, hey, no need to rub it in," Liam frowned.   
  
"Sore loser," Louis sighed, rolling his eyes.   
  
Needless to say, Louis and Liam weren't even on talking to terms for the rest of the party. It worsened once Liam found out that Louis and Harry won a small, gold trophy that said 'best swimmer' at the bottom.   
  
Harry snorted at it. Louis was ecstatic and insisted that he keep it. Once Harry agreed, he pushed the small trophy into his inside jacket pocket, patting it softly as if it were the most precious thing ever.   
  
Harry couldn't help but smile fondly. It was fine. He would have done the same thing if it were Zayn or even Liam. Kind of.   
  
The ended up cutting Zayn's cake at half past one in the morning. The vanilla-chocolate helped tremendously to cure his buzz, along with a few bottles of water.   
  
Louis, on the other hand, was just enjoying the cake, laughing about something or another with Zayn. They had their arms swung around each others shoulders, a plate of cake in their hands, swinging from side-to-side and then they started singing.   
  
They started to sing _Seven Wonders_ by _Fleetwood Mac_ and Harry wanted to come in his pants right then and there. He blamed it on the alcohol that was still taking over his mind and body.   
  
It was at three a.m. when people started to leave. Louis was not as drunk anymore but he was still tipsy- on his way to sober. Which meant that he had to stumble out of the club slightly.  
  
It wasn't extreme, but Harry still felt the need to snake his arm around Louis' waist to steady him as they made their way to Harry's car.   
  
"I really had fun today," Louis slurred as Harry opened the passenger side door for him.   
  
"I had fun, too," Harry laughed, "thank you for coming."   
  
"Thank you for inviting me," Louis mumbled.   
  
Harry smiled fondly, getting to his side of the car. He started up the car and pulled away from the parking space.   
  
When he turned to look at Louis, he noticed that Louis was leaning against the window, his eyes opening and closing tiredly.   
  
"Lou, we are almost at your place," Harry said quietly.   
  
Louis hummed in acknowledgement  and waved him off, snuggling into the window's side again. Harry chuckled to himself and shook his head.   
  
He decided to let Louis have his ten minute sleep and woke him up with a gentle shake of his shoulder once they were outside his place.   
  
Louis blinked twice before he took in his surrounding properly and turned to Harry, "sorry," he rasped.   
  
Harry swallowed. "It's okay,"   
  
"Thank you for today," Louis said, his voice still filled with slumber.   
  
"You're welcome," Harry smiled, "do you need help going up?"   
  
"No, I'm fine, love. Thanks," Louis smiled back tiredly.   
  
Love. Okay.   
  
He was still on his way to being sober and he was still sleepy. It probably slipped out. Again. It was just in the moment. That was all.   
  
"You're sure?"   
  
"Positive," he smiled back at him and clicked the door opened, "thanks again."   
  
"You're welcome--- again," Harry bit his lip as he watched Louis carefully get out of the car. It was more endearing than it should have been. Should it have been in the first place?   
  
"Hey," Louis poked his head into the car again, his hand over the opened car door and the other over the roof, "Don't overthink it the next time, yeah? Just text me."   
  
Harry gaped at him and fish-mouthed before pursing his lips and looking down, his ears heating up.   
  
"Bye, Harry," Louis said, then before Harry knew It, he shut the door and walked up the edge of the pub to where it led to his flat.   
  
Harry laughed at himself and shook his head. "Idiot," he mumbled to himself before starting up his car again and driving back to his place.   
  
As he parked into his lot, he unbuckled his seatbelt and noticed a shiny, gold, cheap-looking object on the passenger seat.   
  
Harry felt his lips twitch up into a smile.   
  
_The damn swimmers trophy._   
  
Oh, so Louis had forgotten his trophy. Well, that simply wouldn't do. Harry would have to get this trophy back to it's rightful owner.  
  
He pulled out his phone, remembering what Louis had told him and typed out his message.   
  
Harry: _you forgot your trophy in my car. I have a feeling you would want it back ;)_   
  
Maybe he shouldn't have put a winky face but it was too late because it had sent already.   
  
Harry placed the small object into his own jacket pocket and bit his lip to contain his smile. He hadn’t had this much of fun in months. He forgot what it was like to smile and laugh this much. It scared him that Louis seemed to be common denominator whenever he seemed to be the most happy.


	5. Five

Harry woke up in a good mood. Why? Because he woke up to a text from Louis. Two texts actually. He double texted Harry.  
  
_Double texted._  
  
So, yes, Harry was in a good mood. He also considered last night to be quite successful. And he got a trophy out of it, too.  
  
Okay, well, not his because it was Louis' but technically it was his, too, because they both won that game. But, Louis definitely wanted to keep that trophy, judging by his texts from earlier.  
  
To be precise he said:  
  
_I feel like you did this on purpose but anywho, I want my trophy back._ _  
__  
__Also, that winky face seems suspicious._  
  
Harry said that he would bring it to Louis. Louis then informed him that he would be working at his studio all day. Harry almost felt his heart deflate until Louis said that his studio was right above his flat.  
  
Harry was surprised about that information. Louis never mentioned it when they were... together.  
  
He shrugged it off though. It wasn't really as if he had the right to know everything about Louis anyways.  
  
So, Louis said he should come over during his lunch break and meet his friend who helps him with some of his work.  
  
Harry happily agreed and left home at exactly twelve. It wasn't too far from his place to Louis' so he was there within ten minutes, the trophy in his sweaty palms, the weather nippy outside and the pub lights flickering.  
  
He knew where to go so he walked to the side of the pub where there was an attached building and opened the front door to it. If he remembered correctly, Louis was in flat 3B.  
  
He sauntered up the steps until he reached that achingly familiar dark green door with the gold-plated number and letter.  
  
He raised a hesitant fist up to the wood and knocked twice. When no one answered, he tried again.  
  
Much to Harry's dismay, there was still no answer.  
  
He huffed and pulled out his phone from his coat pocket. He clicked over Louis' number to dial without even thinking twice, only really realising he was calling him after Louis picked up.  
  
"Hello?"  
  
Harry clammed up.  
  
"H-hey, I'm- um, I'm at your place, outside the door," he stammered.  
  
"Oh," he seemed surprised, "did you ring the doorbell?"  
  
Harry frowned, perplexed. Then he looked around the door again to see a small, black button to his left around a blue LED light.  
  
"Oh," he said stupidly, "I've been knocking on your door."  
  
Louis chortled on the other end of the line, "just press the doorbell then."  
  
Harry's frown deepened, "But you already know that I'm here."  
  
"Ugh, Harry, just do it, please?"  
  
Harry was still rather confused but he did anyways, hearing the buzzing coming through from the inside of the house.  
  
"Good, I'm on my way," Louis said. Before Harry could reply, Louis hung up.  
  
Harry pulled the phone away from his ear and stared at it as if it would somehow give him some answers.  
  
Suddenly, the door swung open and Louis came into view, dressed in an oversized hoodie, joggers and what looked to be quite an impressive on-its-way-to-a-beard kind of stubble.  
  
It was funny. His stubble hadn't looked this thick last night. How much does one's facial hair grow overnight?  
  
Louis' face contorted into something that looked like confusion, "You're staring at my face."  
  
"Um, I'm sorry, just--- you know, you have, like, a beard or something," Harry stuttered hopelessly.  
  
Louis' mouth twitched up into a slow grin. "Excellent observation. Gold star for you," he shifted aside so that the door was more opened.  
  
"Okay, that was weird," Harry laughed, feeling his face getting hot.  
  
"It's all right, come in, Harry," Louis beckoned him in.  
  
Harry squeezed his way past Louis and into the flat. The flat that held so many memories. It seemed to hold years and years of them yet it was barely a night.  
  
Nothing much had changed except this time he took the whole decor in--- really took it in.  
  
He knew that the whole flat looked like it came out of the magazine Louis photographed for but good god, Harry was so in love with it.  
  
Besides the interior designing, the whole place just felt homely and comforting. He wasn't sure when last he felt that way around anyone else's space.  
  
And to think he was scared it would feel too uncomfortable to stay in for too long.  
  
The sound of the door shutting snapped him out of his thoughts.  
  
"So, I hope you have my trophy then," Louis cocked his head to the side, raising one eyebrow at him.  
  
Harry rolled his eyes, grinning. He handed Louis the small object, delighted to see Louis' beaming smile in return.  
  
"Still can't believe I won this," Louis mumbled.  
  
"We," Harry amended with a frown.  
  
"Right," Louis said mindlessly, glancing up at Harry briefly before sauntering off.  
  
Harry didn't know if he should follow. Before he could ask, Louis stopped in front of a tall shelf and placed the trophy on top of the wood.  
  
He walked two steps backwards and grinned triumphantly to himself.  
  
Harry had to bite his lip to stop himself from laughing.  
  
The whole thing was really so ridiculous but he still found it so endearing.  
  
"All right," Louis finally turned around, diverting his gaze from the trophy to Harry, "want to see my studio then?"  
  
"Yes please," Harry nodded excitedly, "if it's anything like this place then I'm beyond excited."  
  
Louis let out a short chuckle, "okay then, let's go." He beckoned Harry over to follow him.  
  
Harry wasted no time, trudging up to Louis and walking beside him.  
  
"It's a little small but I love it so much," Louis said as they walked to the far end of his hallway.  
  
"Is it where you do some of your photoshoots for the magazine?"  
  
"No, this is just for me and get my creative juices flowing, you know?" Louis said, his hands flailing as he spoke.  
  
Harry noticed he used his hands a lot to speak. Very _gestured_ man.  
  
They walked to a narrow wooden staircase that was mostly dark aside from a small wall-light on the side of the white wall.  
  
"I wish I knew what you're talking about but I'm afraid I don't have one creative bone in my body," Harry sighed dramatically.  
  
"I'm sure that's not true," Louis laughed. He led the way up the stairs as it was too narrow for both of them to walk up side-by-side.  
  
"Actually, you may be right. I mean, I did choose some creative head accessories for Zayn's party. It's a shame we didn't get to wear them though," Harry said, ending with a small pout.  
  
Once they reached the top, Louis turned to him, arching his brow. "What accessories?"  
  
"Penis headbands," Harry replied unabashedly.    
  
Louis barked out a laugh, "right, of course."    
  
"Louis?" A voice called out.  
  
Harry and Louis looked to their right where the voice was coming from.  
  
A brunette man with wide spectacles popped out from behind the white wall in front of them.  
  
"You must be Harry," he said, looking at Harry as he approached them. "I'm Niall," he held out his hand for a handshake.  
  
"I am Harry," he smiled, shaking his hand.  
  
"Harry, this is Niall, my best friend and my colleague," Louis swung an arm around Niall's shoulders, "and Niall, Harry here stole my trophy."  
  
Niall laughed loudly which caught Harry by surprise. It was such a boisterous laugh, he hadn't expected it. It was also quite contagious, seeing as Harry chuckled to himself a bit, too.  
  
"I didn't steal it," Harry whined in protest, "it's technically both of ours."  
  
"I got the most shots so no, it's more mine than yours, really," Louis raised a challenging eyebrow at him.  
  
"You're impossible," Harry grumbled.  
  
"You should be the last one talking--- you stole my trophy!"  
  
Niall burst into laughter again. Did he laugh at everything Louis said?  
  
"Okay, I'm sorry, now can we move on?"  
  
"Right, right," Louis let go of Niall's shoulders, "I'm going to show Harry here my studio," he explained to Niall.  
  
Niall nodded, leading the way.  
  
"So, I normally do my negatives here and I do some abstract stuff and display them here--- I dont even know what it is about this place but I just get my best ideas and designs here."  
  
Harry watched carefully and listened intently while he spoke. He was truly something else when he spoke about things he was passionate about.  
  
"Do you take pictures here though?" Harry asked as they approached a white screen, cameras and a ring light set up.  
  
"I get some models come in sometimes to do it for their portfolios and stuff," Louis said.  
  
Then they walked past the white screen set up to a white room where there were neatly displayed photographs, each framed accordingly and they all looked phenomenal.  
  
There were some of landscape and others of buildings, then some of his photos from the magazine that Harry immediately recognised.  
  
"Louis, these are beautiful," Harry said, his voice sort and in awe, studying the photo of what looked like the old building down on 5th street. The abandoned one that nobody really wanted to go near.  
  
Harry turned to look at Louis only to notice that he was already staring back at him. He blushed, "these are lovely," he said shyly.  
  
"Thank you," Louis said quietly.  
  
There was a moment between them again. The moment that had happened a few times before where Harry just felt his heart rate increase at an alarming beat and his fingers and toes  tingle.  
  
That moment, however, didn't last long because Niall cleared his throat loudly from behind them.  
  
And, oh yes, Niall was here too.  
  
"Lads, I was just about to order some pizza, want in on the order?"  
  
"The usual for me, Ni," he turned to Harry, "you?"  
  
"Uh, just plain cheese will be fine," Harry smiled politely.  
  
Niall eyed the two of them suspiciously before he sauntered off.  
  
They both seemed to be relieved, judging by their heavy exhales.  
  
"I'm going to get a beer, you want some?" Louis puffed out a breath then smiled. Harry could sense the awkward tension between them and he hated it. They were doing so well.  
  
"Please," Harry nodded hastily.  
  
They walked back down the cramped staircase and Louis headed to his fridge, telling Harry to sit anywhere he would like, while Niall stood near the kitchen island, talking to who Harry assumed would be the pizza place.  
  
Harry sat on one of the white couches decorated with purple and blue pillows as well as sequenced black one. He grabbed one and placed it over his lap habitually. He would always do it at his place for some odd reason.  
  
"Here," Louis stood in front of him, handing him the cold bottle of beer.  
  
"Thanks," Harry accepted the beer and took a small sip of it, "'s nice."  
  
Louis sat down on a different couch but still next to him--- near him. "Only the finest here at the Tomlinson residence," he raised his bottle up, half tilting it almost as if he were toasting something before taking a sip himself.  
  
"All right, lads, pizza will be here in fifteen. I'm going to have to leave soon after though--- got that date with Jen," he told Louis, sitting on the singular couch opposite Harry.  
  
"Ah, yeah," Louis drawled out in realisation, "good luck, mate."  
  
"Thanks, Louis," Niall grinned. He turned to Harry, "so Harry, I've heard a lot about you."  
  
Harry looked at Louis and smirked, "oh, you have, have ya?"  
  
"Hmm, can't stop talking about you, this one; says you have the best dimples he has ever seen," Niall cackled upon seeing Louis' horrified, embarrassed expression.  
  
Harry joined in, "Its okay, Louis, I'm flattered," he placed a hand over his heart.  
  
"Wait till you hear what he's told his friends about me," Louis raised his voice slightly, "said I have the best cheekbones, bluest eyes and what was the other one, Harry? I didn't quite hear it," he teased.  
  
Harry felt his cheeks burn, "I don't recall whatever it is you're talking about."  
  
Louis cackled, "You're really gonna play this game, huh?" He raised his eyebrow at him.  
  
Harry rolled his eyes and turned his attention to Niall, "so Niall, tell me, is Louis this insufferable at work, too?"  
  
Louis giggled into his bottle, waiting for Niall's response.  
  
"You're getting it easy, Harry," Niall tsked.    
  
"Oh my god, you're a tyrant," Harry said, smiling widely.  
  
"So many names today, what else are you gonna call me, Harry?"  
  
"I'll decide as the day goes on, okay?"  
  
"Only if I get to do the same," Louis shrugged.  
  
"Fine," Harry matched his stare.  
  
"So, how long have you two known each other then? Louis has only brought you up recently, I'm afraid, but he mentioned that he has known you for longer," Niall said, sitting at edge of his seat.  
  
"Um," Harry felt himself blushing again, "we've known each other since around the beginning of December so over a month, I guess."  
  
Niall nodded, "Louis and I have known each other for about three years now?" He looked to Louis for confirmation.  
  
Louis nodded, "three agonising years and even more of an agonising month for this one," he cocked his head in Harry's direction.  
  
"Hey," Harry protested, voice high and pouting.  
  
"Kidding, love," Louis chuckled softly.  
  
_Love_. There it was again.  
  
Just then, the doorbell rang.  
  
"See, even the pizza delivery guy found the doorbell," Louis gave Harry a pointed look.  
  
"Oh, shut it," Harry stuck his tongue out at Louis while Niall got up to get the pizza.  
  
"All right, here we go," he came back with the pizza box, placing it on the coffee table.  
  
The smell immediately enticed him. Before he even knew It, he was gobbling up a piece of the cheesy goodness. He didn't even know Louis and Niall were laughing at him until he looked at them.  
  
"What?" He asked, suddenly self-conscious.  
  
"You should feed yourself before you feed your face and clothes," Louis said, smirking.  
  
Harry blushed, looking down at his shirt to see splotches of sauce on it and wiped at the edge of his mouth, feeling his fingertips moisten with oil.  
  
"God, this is embarrassing," Harry mumbled, his cheeks feeling hot.  
  
"Just poking fun," Niall chuckled, chewing on his own slice much more elegantly than Harry.  
  
Harry was much more self-conscious about eating then, taking small bites of it with a hand underneath the slice.    
  
Louis noticed and felt guilty so, being the good person that he was, he grabbed the bottle of beer and pretended to take a sip only to spill the liquid over his hoodie.  
  
"Fuck," he cursed, getting up abruptly.  
  
Niall cackled and Harry widened his eyes, snorting.  
  
Harry tried to contain his laugh by putting his hand over his mouth but he didn't miss the way Louis smiled at him, fond and soft.  
  
Harry felt his heart warming because he had an idea about what just happened.  
  
"I'm going to change, if you don't mind, you arseholes," he grumbled, shifting passed Harry's couch to go the hallway.  
  
When Louis left, Niall and Harry were left in an awkward silence where they both finished eating and sipped their drinks slowly.  
  
"Pretty sure you figured that he did that on purpose," Niall said with a small smile on his face.  
  
Harry felt a grin slowly spreading across his face, "I guess I kind of figured."  
  
"I'll tell you what, if it were me in your place, he would have been relentless; probably would have poured that beer down my shirt to be honest," he let out a small chuckle.  
  
Harry didn't even know what to say. He was just grinning widely, biting at his bottom lip because what made him so special then?  
  
"He's quite fond of you, I can see," Niall added, "and you of him."  
  
"He's really great," Harry said honestly.  
  
"Can be a little shit sometimes, I'll tell ya that," Niall snorted.  
  
Harry huffed out a laugh just as Louis reappeared, an orange hoodie on this time.  
  
"Right, lads, what did I miss?" He asked, taking his seat again with a tissue in hand, wiping at the suede where the beer fell.  
  
"Just telling Harry how you would have poured that beer down my shirt," Niall said, passing a wink at Harry.  
  
Harry hadn't stopped smiling so when Louis turned to him and asked, "what are you smiling about?" Harry just shrugged at him.  
  
"Anyways," Louis huffed, "how about a round of FIFA before you go?"  
  
Niall nodded excitedly, "game on."  
  
Harry watched them play the first round but if he was being quite honest, all he watched was Louis because Louis was utterly endearing when he got all competitive and loud with people.  
  
Then when he won, he jumped up and down in front of Niall and cheered. Niall looked irritated but still fond.  
  
He left a few minutes later and then it was just Louis and Harry left.  
  
And Harry had nowhere else to be so he couldn't think of a better place to spend his time nor a better person to spend it with.  
  
"You want another?" Louis asked, looking at his beer.  
  
"Uh, sure," he handed Louis the empty bottle with a grateful smile.  
  
When Louis came back it was with a small Tupperware container in one hand and two beer bottles in the other.  
  
"Oh my god, is that what I think it is?" Harry asked, perking up.  
  
"So you do like weed then," Louis hummed approvingly, sitting down again but this time on the carpet. He patted the spot next to him, looking at Harry, "Come sit."  
  
Harry obliged because why not?  
  
He crossed his gangly legs, sitting close to Louis.  
  
"I haven't smoked weed in ages," he said, watching Louis roll the joint.  
  
"Yeah? When last did you have it?" He glanced up at him briefly before returning his attention to his task at hand.  
  
"Hmm, probably a year ago."  
  
"A year?" Louis squawked, "I would die."  
  
"A bit dramatic, no?"  
  
"Only way I know how to do it," Louis smiled, finally finishing up the joint and pulling out a lighter from underneath the couch cushion.  
  
"You have a lighter underneath your couch cushion?" Harry asked, amused.  
  
"It's for emergencies," Louis shrugged, placing the stick between his lips and lighting the edge.  
  
Harry wondered why he found everything Louis did so endearing. He was lighting up a joint for fucks sake.  
  
"How high have you gotten before?" Louis asked, taking a drag and puffing it out.  
  
He handed it Harry. He studied it before taking a tentative suck and coughing before he even let out a breath.  
  
Louis cackled, "It’s not even that strong, H."  
  
"It's been a while," Harry pouted, "and I thought I saw a pink elephant once."  
  
"That's nothing," Louis waved him off, taking the joint again, "I thought I was on a roller coaster once and fell down the stairs then asked to do it again."  
  
Harry laughed, trying once again to take a hit. This time it was successful and Harry sighed happily.  
  
"That feels fucking good."  
  
"Good, you need to relax," he smiled.  
  
"You think so?"  
  
"Harry, you've been on edge most of the time since we've been friends. You have to relax, love."  
  
Harry knew he acted a bit off but he hadn't known it was so obvious.  
  
"I'm sorry," he sighed, letting out smoke.  
  
"You know what it is?" Louis sucked in another hit, "we didn't speak about that night."  
  
Harry frowned, "we did."  
  
"Not exactly," he passed it over to Harry again. He was sad to see that it was almost done, "we talked about moving forward but it's still left out in the open with us. Just a mess we're trying to avoid walking over."  
  
"Fine, what do you wanna talk about then?"  
  
"Well, let me just start off by saying that your cock up my ass felt beyond amazing."  
  
Harry barked out a surprised laugh, his face heating up all the way up to his ears.  
  
"When I woke up the next morning... I don't know, I felt disappointed. I kind of thought we could have talked in the morning," Louis shrugged and let out a sigh, "and then your note," he snorted, "I don't even know what to say about that."  
  
"Louis, I'm really sorry. I---"  
  
"Harry, if you apologise one more time I will pour beer down _your_ shirt,"  
  
Harry let out a half-hearted laugh, "I just--- I really freaked out that morning."  
  
"Why did you freak out?" Louis asked, finishing off the the blunt and crushing the end onto the green ashtray on the middle of the coffee table.  
  
"I felt--- I felt oddly guilty, I guess?" Harry sighed, "I--- I don’t think I was ready to be with someone else and the fact that I slept with you just made me feel like I cheated on someone."  
  
Louis' face fell but he quickly composed himself, "on your husband, you mean?"  
  
"Ex-husband, yes. It just didn't hit me that I guess, it was over and I was in a weird place--- I still am."  
  
Louis nodded, bringing his knees up to his chest, arms over them to hold them up, "didn't you say he cheated on you?" He asked in a careful tone.  
  
"Both of them did," Harry laughed bitterly, "I actually met my second ex after meeting him at a bar and sleeping with him. I rushed into that relationship way too quickly and it ended even worse than the first one."  
  
"I'm sorry," Louis reached over and placed a hand over Harry's that lay on the carpet.  
  
"It's okay. I think I'll be fine," Harry smiled at Louis.  
  
Louis squeezed his hand and looked him right in the eye, saying, "You will be more than fine and I'm here for you, okay?"  
  
Harry felt his eyes well up with tears, "I don't understand how you're so nice to me," he said quietly.  
  
"I've kind of wanted to kiss you since the moment I saw you walk into that club, H. You won me over with that dimpled smile of yours," he reached over and poked Harry's dimple when he smiled.

 “When you yelled at my friend, you mean?”

 Louis laughed, “Yeah, that time.”

 There was a silence that loomed over them until Harry spoke again.  
  
"You deserve the world, you know?" Harry lazily leaned against the couch and lolled his head to the side to look at Louis.  
  
"My mum says the same thing," Louis laughed.  
  
"Your mum is a wise woman," Harry nodded, feeling the effect of the weed take over, "and I want her chicken again."  
  
Louis chortled, "I'll be sure to tell her that, then."  
  
Louis reached into the container again, pulling out the white paper and weed. "Want another?"  
  
Harry nodded, "fuck yes."  
  
It was barely ten minutes later when Harry was sure he was quite high. He was laughing at the t.v. where it was left on pause, the FIFA score on display.  
  
Louis wasn't as high as him but he laughed anyways, "what's so funny?"  
  
"FIFA has little men that you can control," Harry slurred out, his speech slower than usual, "maybe they could have sex."  
  
Louis burst out laughing, "if you want virtual men to have sex then maybe you should download SIMS."  
  
Harry made a sound of disapproval, "it's too much work." Before Louis could reply, he snapped his head in his direction, studying Louis’ eyes, "you know what I could go for right now?"

 Louis shook his head, a curious smile on his face.

 “A hug,” he sighed, a touch too dramatic.

 Louis gave him a sad smile and opened his arms up, moving a bit closer.

Harry fell into them--- not so gracefully--- and hugged Louis tightly. It felt good to be hugged like this. Louis smelt of weed and strong cologne that Harry knew he liked by now as every time they had met, he smelt of the same fragrance.

 Louis had his arms wrapped around Harry's shoulders while Harry's head lay limp over his chest.

 He doesn't know what compelled him to cry next; maybe it was the warmth and dangerous comfort he felt in someone else's arms--- he just started to cry.

 “Harry, hey, don't cry,” Louis rubbed over his back which only spurred on more tears because it felt so soothing.

 “Sorry,” he whispered into the fabric of the freshly washed orange hoodie. It smelt like washing powder.

 “It's fine,” Louis reassured him, “what's wrong?”

 Harry started to shake his head, “I just--- I don't even know. I feel scared.”

 Louis’ hands paused over his back. He gently pulled Harry away from his chest to look at him. His features were soft and gentle, “why are you scared?”

 Harry looked down, almost as if he were ashamed, “I--- it's just, I don't feel like I--- I---”

 “Like you what?” Louis frowned, staring at him with the most intense, attentive look he had ever seen.

 “Like I---” he swallowed nervously, realising that he never ever said this out loud, not even to himself, “like I don't deserve love after everything that's happened to me.”

 Louis gave him a look of pity. Though he hated it, he understood.

 “Harry---”

“It's fine--- maybe it's just not for me, you know? I just didn't know how to be with someone else--- I _don't_ know how.”

 “Hey, this whole cheating thing is not your fault, okay?” Louis grabbed his hands firmly, making Harry look at him, “it's not your fault that they chose to be unfaithful--- you deserve better.”

 “Either way, I think I'm just way too damaged to be with anyone else after all of this,” Harry huffed, almost like he was admitting defeat, “I don't know if anyone else would _want_ me after they hear about me having two divorces.”

 “Hey, listen to me,” Louis enunciated the words and Harry couldn't look away from his face, “your past does not define you.”

 “But your past is what makes you _you_ ,”

 “But, you aren't your past self. You are who you are _now_ and whatever happened with your exes doesn't pave way into anything your future holds. They don't even deserve to hold a thought in your mind.,”

 Harry could still feel his cheeks getting wet, his nose getting runny and his heart stuttering but for different reasons now. He couldn't tell you what those reasons were.

 “Thanks,” he sniffled, squeezing Louis’ hands. He slumped forward, close to Louis but not hugging him this time, “I don't know how I went from virtual guys having sex to me being all emo about my exes,” he laughed wetly.

 Louis, much to Harry's surprise, pulled him close so that Harry's head was on his shoulder. “You're going to be okay,” he rubbed Harry's forearm.

 Harry didn't feel like he was going to but right now, he felt more than okay.

“Hey,” Louis called out. Harry looked up at him to see him smirking, "gingerbread biscuits?"

  
Harry gasped, "how did you know I was thinking about that?"  
  
Louis smiled, "I just did," he got up and held out his hand for Harry to take, "Come teach me how to make them."  
  
"Okay," Harry agreed excitedly. He accepted Louis' hand and followed him into the kitchen, giggling and stumbling over the ottoman.  
  
It was almost an hour later, their buzz was slowly dying down and the biscuits were in the oven. Harry and Louis were sitting on the floor, the bowl of gingerbread dough between them while their fingers were messed with gloops of the brown substance.  
  
They licked their fingers and swiped over the edges of the glass bowl. There was silence between them but it wasn't uncomfortable at all.  
  
"These are really fucking delicious," Louis hummed in approval, taking some of the dough into his mouth again.  
  
"Thank you. I'm surprised you had the ingredients,"  
  
"I've tried to make them since I've had them," Louis admitted.  
  
Harry felt flattered and touched. "Would you say it was the best you've ever had?"  
  
Louis groaned, letting out a tired laugh, "in more ways than one? Then yes, sure, but you have to stop fishing for compliments from me."  
  
"I'll try my best not to," Harry leaned back against the cupboard and sighed, "these past few days have been the most fun I've had in ages now."  
  
"Yeah?"  
  
Harry looked at Louis, his fringe falling over his face and eyes sparkling blue. Harry nodded, a soft smile on his face.  
  
"All thanks to you," he added.  
  
Louis grinned at him, "you flatter me," he waved him off.  
  
"Only fair that I return the compliments," he said truthfully. "Thank you, Louis," he said on a more serious note, feeling himself get emotional all over again, "you've helped me open up, too, which I haven't done much these past few months."  
  
"Oh, love," Louis gave him a sad smile and pushed the bowl to the side. He opened up his arms and Harry fell into them effortlessly again.    
  
And damn if it wasn't the best fucking hug he had ever gotten in his life. Again.  
  
He felt his tears wet his cheeks and soon they fell onto Louis' hoodie too. Fucking again. Harry--- for a second --- thought he would push him away, maybe he had hugged Louis too much now, but he didn't, instead, he pulled Harry closer to him and held onto him a little tighter.  
  
It felt oddly liberating to be held.

***

  
  
It was around the last week of January that Zayn and Liam invited Louis, Niall and Harry to their place for brunch.  
  
They met at the pub--- the usual one where Louis stayed above--- and they were a few drinks in when Zayn sputtered out, "You should all come over for brunch this Sunday and bring your friend, Louis!"  
  
Louis didn't even seem phased or taken aback and Harry wasn't sure if he could have even blamed the alcohol this time because Louis only had one beer. He agreed easily and they settled on a time. Harry just stared at them, a bit shocked because Liam and Zayn didn't even like brunch. The last time Harry invited them over for brunch, they laughed and called it tacky.  
  
Frankly, Harry was slightly offended.  
  
On top of that, Harry wasn't sure what it was but it left a weird bubble in his stomach when they had asked Louis over along with his 'friend, Neil', as Zayn had later called him.  
  
Harry had snorted and corrected them but they both had a look on their face that Harry wasn't sure he had seen before.  
  
A mix of mischievous and smug with a hint of anxiousness.  
  
Harry obviously had to pick up Louis and Niall as they didn't know where they had stayed. What Harry didn't expect was the chaos that would be the car ride there.  
  
"Niall, I told you to bring the casserole," Louis scolded him.  
  
"No you didn't!" Niall fought back, "and who even brings a casserole for brunch?" He asked incredulously.  
  
"Polite guests, that's who," Louis narrowed his eyes at him from the passenger seat.  
  
"Your casserole isn't even that nice," Niall grumbled. Harry saw him lean back against the middle seat and cross his arms over his chest, an indignant look on his face.  
  
Louis gasped. Genuinely gasped, "you take that back."  
  
"I've tasted better," Niall bit back, looking Louis right in the eye.  
  
Louis made an affronted noise and Harry wasn't sure whether he should laugh or cry.  
  
"Fucking dick, next time you need some food at ten in the morning in cure of that hangover of yours, don't come knocking on my door," Louis turned around in his seat and assumed the same position Niall sat at the back.  
  
There was thick tension in the air after that and Harry felt extremely uncomfortable but he was also slightly amused.  
  
They acted like an old married couple, breaching the line to petulant toddlers. It was scary how much of a fine line there was between the two.  
  
Harry subtly reached over to the knob of the old radio and turned the volume up a moderate amount so that he felt less awkward even if it was in just the slightest.  
  
He cleared his throat, both hands gripping the wheel tightly and shifted on his seat.  
  
"See, you made Harry uncomfortable," Louis spoke abruptly, looking at Niall through the rearview mirror.  
  
Harry jumped at the sound of his name, "no, I---"  
  
"You started this," Niall cut him off.  
  
"You're the one who forgot to bring the damn casserole!"  
  
Harry finally gave up, letting out a resigned sigh and cleared his throat loudly so that they both stopped their chattering and paid attention to him.  
  
It worked well. Their eyes were set on him.  
  
"Lou, it's fine that you didn't bring anything, Zayn and Liam won't care. Trust me," he gave him a reassuring glance before looking at Niall through the rearview mirror, "Niall, don't forget the casserole next time."  
  
Louis barked out a laugh along with Niall and Harry grinned proudly.  
  
It was quiet and calm the rest of the trip and they all walked to Zayn and Liam's with happy smiles on their faces.  
  
Liam was the one to open the door and invited them in graciously with a flourish of his hand.  
  
Harry rolled his eyes at his over-the-top behaviour but said nothing, holding the bowl of fruit salad in his hand and walking to the kitchen where Zayn was stacking pancakes on a glass plate.  
  
"H," he smiled, warm and inviting, "where are your friends?"  
  
Harry opened the fridge and shifted around a few containers to place the bowl of salad, "they're being greeted by Liam; he's probably giving them a tour of the place."  
  
Zayn snorted, "of course."  
  
Harry closed the fridge door and leaned against the cold metal.  
  
Zayn looked him up and down, raising an eyebrow once his eyes landed on Harry's face.  
  
"What?" He asked, touching his face out of self-consciousness.  
  
"You look... nice," he said carefully.  
  
Harry pinched his brows together and looked down at his attire. He skipped on his usual black skinny jeans for dark blue ones and wore a plain, black button-up.  
  
"I do?" He asked, perplexed.  
  
"You're wearing a button-up shirt for brunch, H, and I didn't even know you owned a different coloured skinny jeans other than black," he had a smug look on his face as he spoke.  
  
"It's just something I threw on," he lied. He went through his cupboard and drawers last night in search of something 'nice' to wear.  
  
"Right," Zayn hummed, clearly not buying it, "you placed the fruit salad in the fridge?"  
  
"Yeah, the apples were getting brown," he explained, happy that the subject was changed.  
  
"Okay, help me set up the table, yeah?"  
  
Harry nodded and grabbed the plate of French toast in one hand and jug of orange juice in the other, walking beside Zayn to their dining room table.  
  
It was set up nicely and Harry presumed the crystal champagne glasses on the side of each plate was Liam's touch.  
  
"It's so fancy," came Louis' voice from behind them.  
  
They both snapped their heads to his direction and Zayn gave him a warm smile, "Thanks, mate. Good to see you again."  
  
Zayn straightened out the mat on the table and walked up to Louis, giving him a short hug before being introduced to Niall.  
  
Harry frowned. Louis never hugged him--- they never hugged as a greeting. They hadn't hugged since over a week ago when they held onto each other tightly on Louis' kitchen floor.  
  
Harry snapped out of it upon hearing their laughter. He was immediately met with Liam's curious gaze but he dodged it, meeting Louis' eyes instead.  
  
Much better.  
  
Harry patted the seat next to him, feeling as if he were in school, saving the seat next to him for his best friend. He quickly looked down, slightly embarrassed but thankfully Louis didn't comment on anything, taking his seat next to Harry.  
  
The rest of them found their own seats; Zayn and Liam opposite them and Niall at the head of the table to his right.  
  
Harry smiled victoriously. It wasn't like he had won something that extravagant. It was only Louis sitting next to him.  
  
_Calm the fuck down_  
  
"I meant to bring a casserole but my good friend, Niall, over here, forgot to bring it," he passed Niall a sickeningly sweet smile.  
  
Niall glared at Louis, his cheeks turning red as he turned to Liam and Zayn to apologise. Before he could, Liam waved him off.  
  
"Zayn made more than enough and, besides, we didn't ask you guys to bring anything."  
  
"Harry brought a fruit salad," Louis frowned.  
  
"Harry always brings a fruit salad," Zayn rolled his eyes fondly.  
  
Harry shrugged, "not everyone makes it the way I do."  
  
"Brat," Zayn coughed out.  
  
Louis and Niall chuckled and Harry's frown deepened.  
  
"'M not. I just know what I want and how I want it, okay?" He felt his cheeks heat up after hearing the way it sounded.  
  
They all burst out laughing.  
  
"And how exactly do you want it, Harry?" Louis asked him, staring at him.  
  
It was so intense but Harry couldn't look away. Could he ever look away from Louis' eyes?  
  
Harry felt the heat rise up to his ears and spread down to neck.  
  
"Can we eat now, please?" He asked, feeling everybody's eyes on him.  
  
They left it alone after that and dishes and bowls were passed around while there was small talk while they ate and the atmosphere was comfortable. But it was relatively quiet.    
  
That was why Harry flinched when he felt a hand on his thigh.  
  
He turned to look at Louis, seeing him frown at Harry.  
  
"You good? We were just making a joke," Louis whispered to him.  
  
"I know, I know," Harry let out a breathy laugh, his head feeling a bit light from Louis' warm hand over his thigh. It was still there, "I'm used to it, trust me."  
  
"You sure?" Louis asked and it was so concerned and serious that Harry just... he just melted.  
  
"Louis," he placed his hand over Louis, looking at him with a stern gaze, "shut the fuck up and eat your toast."  
  
Louis snorted, pulling his hand away and smiling, "yes ma'am."  
  
It was only then did he realise that the three other people at the table were all looking at them.  
  
Louis seemed to notice, too.  
  
"What?" Louis asked.  
  
"No, nothing," Niall said quickly, a smirk still on his face but he diverts his gaze to his plate.  
  
Harry looked at Zayn and Liam but they both were looking at their food, too.  
  
He saw Louis shrugging it off and putting a piece of toast in his mouth, so he shrugged it off, too, making a mental note to have some discussions with his friends about their behaviour later on.  
  
"So, Zayn," Louis called out, "Harry said he picked some fun head accessories for your party that we never got to see."  
  
Zayn let out a short laugh, shaking his head, "right, the penis headbands."  
  
"I believe that's what they're called," Louis smirked.  
  
Harry bit his lip, attempting to contain his smile.  
  
"The idiot didn't bring them to the venue so we didn't end up using them," Zayn explained.  
  
"I told you to remind me," Harry whined.  
  
"I can't remember everything," Zayn sighed.  
  
"You just didn't want them to be there. You've hated them since we bought them," he grumbled, frowning.  
  
"Oh, Harry---" Zayn sighed, "look, we can use them for your birthday? I'll even buy more."  
  
Before Harry could reply, Louis asked, "wait, when is your birthday?"  
  
Harry felt bashful under his attention, "it's, um, in a week, I guess."  
  
"You guess?" Louis guffawed.  
  
"It's in a week and no I don't want a party, I just want a cake and my dear friends to be there with me when I cut it," Harry said the last part looking at Zayn.  
  
"Well you didn't tell me when your birthday is," Louis squeaked and for a minute Harry was worried he was actually offended until he started to smile, "what day is it then?"  
  
"It's on Friday, the 1st," Harry smiled shortly at him.  
  
"Good, so I'm planning it then," he sighed happily.  
  
"What? No--- I---"  
  
"Harry, don't even bother trying, he's made up his mind, that I can see," Niall grinned at his friend before looking at Harry again and winking.  
  
"B-but, okay, um, nothing too fancy, yeah? I really don't want a party," he pleaded, looking at Louis and making sure he got the message across.  
  
Louis eventually let out a defeated sigh, "fine."  
  
Harry let out a relieved breath, "Thanks."  
  
"Just so you know, a penis headband party is always fancy," Louis said after a while causing all of them to laugh.  
  
It really wasn't even that funny but it was just the way Louis said it. It was the way he did most things really; he just gained the attention of everyone in the room and probably won his friends over already.


	6. Six

"Who is making you giggle like that?" His sister questioned him with a suspicious glance at his phone then met his eyes.   
  
Harry bit back a smile, staring at the silly selfie Louis had sent him of his eyes crossed in the middle and his tongue sticking out while posing next to the cereal section at a grocery store.   
  
"Just a friend," he shrugged.   
  
"Is it Louis?" His mum asked excitedly.   
  
"It is," Gemma gasped upon seeing him blush, "Wow so you two are talking then?"   
  
"Yeah, he's a good friend," he shrugged again.   
  
"Sure," Anne hummed, "you know, his mum praises him all the time and judging by the way you are with him, it isn't hard to believe."   
  
"He is pretty amazing," Harry mumbled, too busy texting Louis.   
  
"Pretty and amazing, more like," Gemma muttered, sipping her juice.   
  
"You called someone amazing," his mum chimed in, ignoring them both.   
  
"Well, I mean, he is," Harry said truthfully.   
  
Then his sister and mum exchanged looks, proceeding to take a sip of their drinks simultaneously.   
  
Harry shook his head, typing out his reply to Louis again.   
  
"Would you tell him that you're spending time with your family right now and for him to give you some actual _time_ to spend with them?" Gemma asked, still smirking.   
  
"What is he texting you about anyways?" Anne asked, attempting to peer over to glance at his texts.   
  
"He's planning my birthday party-thing tomorrow and he's asking me what to get," Harry said. It wasn't a complete lie; he did just ask Harry what kind of cake he liked.   
  
But, according to Louis, everything else has been taken care of and Harry wasn't sure how he felt about that. He didn't want anything big and he made it abundantly clear. Hopefully Louis got the message.   
  
"Wow, boyfriend is already planning your party," Gemma jutted out her bottom lip as if she were impressed.   
  
"He's not my boyfriend," Harry whined, locking his phone and placing it next to his plate on the table, "now can we talk about something else?"   
  
"Is that why you wanted to meet us today rather than tomorrow for your actual birthday? You want some alone time with your boyfriend?" Gemma teased, fluttering her eyelashes.   
  
"Mum," Harry groaned.   
  
"Gemma," she chastised, "maybe they just don't have a label yet; that's a thing, right?"   
  
Harry groaned again, dropping his face into his palms.   
  
"You know, I haven't met him yet but I really like him so far," Gemma said, ignoring anything Harry said and any of his reactions.   
  
"He's wonderful," Anne said, both of them ignoring the fact that Harry was right there, "granted, I've only met him once."   
  
"Okay, so can we celebrate my early birthday lunch now, if you two are done talking about Louis," Harry murmured, agitated.   
  
"I would love to see what he planned for your birthday tomorrow," Gemma said.   
  
Harry glared at her.   
  
"What? It's about your birthday," she raised her hands up in defense.   
  
"Yes, take some pictures for us," Anne added with a grin.   
  
"Fine," Harry sighed, "I'll make sure I send a picture of everything and send them to you both straightaway."   
  
"Just let me add you back onto the family group chat," Gemma pulled out her phone from her jeans and typed in her password.   
  
"Why do you always leave the chat?" His mother asked.   
  
"Because you and Gem always gossip about other people on the group chat."   
  
"We don't do it all the time," Gemma said defensively.   
  
"If I check your phone and look at the most recent messages from the group, what would I find?" He raised an eyebrow at her, unimpressed.   
  
She looked down, clenching her jaw petulantly, "whatever."   
  
Harry hummed and rolled his eyes.   
  
"You started that new job of yours?" His Mum, thankfully, changed the subject.   
  
"Yes I did, a few days ago," he smiled, "I'm really liking it so far."   
  
He was nervous when he finally chose Greytown Hospital to work at but still convinced that he had made the right decision. After all, Louis sat down with him and by process of elimination through pros and cons, they came to the conclusion that it would be the best option.   
  
The money was not as good as his previous job but his hours were so much more flexible and he didn't have to work on Sundays, plus, Saturday's were only half a day. He was quite pleased with it and to be working again made him feel like he could breathe again.   
  
He was a person that always had to be busy, see. Since he was young, his mum always told him that he would make himself busy, whether it was by helping her with the garden and cooking or watching his dad change tires and wash the car. He would find a way to keep himself occupied.   
  
He had gotten himself a job at fifteen because of it, too. He had never been unemployed since then--- up until now, of course.   
  
"That's good, I'm so happy for you," Anne reached over and squeezed his hand briefly, "you haven't had any contact with Alex since your divorce?"   
  
Harry shook his head, his mood dampening a bit, "thank God, I haven't."   
  
"Yeah, what a dick, but we've established that already, I think," Gemma sighed and placed her phone down on the table.   
  
"You know, maybe you should invite Louis over some time. I could make a dinner or a lunch and we could all get to know him a little better," Anne suggested with a twinkle in her eyes that Harry was dubious of.   
  
"Yes and I'd finally get to interrogate him like the big sister is supposed to," Gemma rubbed her hands together excitedly.   
  
"There will be no interrogations," he warned her with a glare and firm tone.   
  
"That a yes then?" His mum asked, a grin showing too much of her teeth on display.   
  
"Yeah, I guess so. I'd have to ask him first of course," he added the last part before they got too ecstatic about it.   
  
"I'm sure he'll say yes," Gemma said, "have to meet the boyfriend's family after all."   
  
Harry groaned and dropped his head onto the table, hearing them giggle.   
  
He wasn't sure why but the thought of them being boyfriends made him blush more than he'd like to admit.   
  
  
***   


 

**February 2018**

 

  
  
Harry was not surprised when Louis offered his place to have a small 'get together' for Harry's birthday. He insisted that it would be just the right size for a few people and that it was right in the middle for everyone to attend; convenient even though Harry's place was barely ten minutes away from his.   
  
But, when he walked in, he was delighted and shocked to see that Louis' place, as beautiful as it was before, had gotten even more gorgeous.   
  
He decorated the higher parts of the walls with fairy lights and there were clear balloons at every corner and next to the dining room table that were filled with gold glitter and some with white feathers. Along with those balloons were a huge ‘3’ and ‘2’ to symbolize his age; gold and shiny placed behind the table.   
  
"Hello, birthday boy," Louis greeted, popping out from the kitchen and opening up his arms.   
  
He looked amazing with a tight burgundy jumper on and skinny jeans that hugged his thighs just right.   
  
Harry fell into his embrace easily, hugging Louis. "Louis, this is too much," he said as he pulled away.   
  
"Really? It's so dialled down compared to what I was thinking."   
  
"Do I even want to know what the dialled up version of this was?" He arched a brow at him.   
  
"Maybe next time," he winked and Harry's heart thumped behind his rib cage.   
  
Next time.   
  
Louis eyed him up and down, not bothering to hide it. "You look amazing," he said, meeting Harry's eyes again.   
  
Harry smiled shyly at him, looking down at his outfit; his usual black skinnies and a white t-shirt tucked into the tops of the jeans. "Thank you. You do, too," he said.   
  
Louis grinned, they both held eye contact for a second too long before Louis looked away, turning around.   
  
"So come on then, Zayn and Liam are in the kitchen and setting up the drinks for tonight and Niall is on his way. I'm sure your two other friends will be here any moment." He said, already walking.   
  
"Tyler and Fred?" Harry furrowed his brows together, "I'm not even that close with them to be honest. I've only just met them."   
  
"Well, Zayn suggested that I invite them. A way for you to make new friends and whatnot," he waved his hand dismissively, clearly not quite sure about why Zayn invited them.   
  
"All right then," he mumbled and met Zayn and Liam in the kitchen. They each gave him a hug and wished him happy birthday with a sloppy kiss to his cheek and forehead respectively.   
  
His two other 'friends', as Louis had said, showed up a few minutes later with gifts in their hands and a friendly hug, wishing him a happy birthday, too.   
  
It was a little awkward at first because Harry hadn’t spoken to them much, only having met them just over a week ago at the hospital, but as soon as they were a few drinks in, they were laughing and chattering about god knows what.   
  
At his second martini, Louis clapped his hands together loudly to gain their attention even though he was right in front of them. "Okay, if everyone would please step into the dining room, we have a cake to cut that I worked very hard on earlier."   
  
Harry widened his eyes, "you made the cake for me?"   
  
"Of course," Louis scoffed as if any other option would be ridiculous, "homemade is the best make."   
  
Harry chuckled softly, in awe of the man.   
  
"Right then, let's go," he gestured towards the dining room area and everyone trudged to the  table.   
  
Harry stood on one side, behind a chair and behind a delicious looking cake, covered in cream and strawberries. It looked wonderful and Harry couldn't believe he made the cake for him.   
  
They all sang happy birthday for him and he basked in the attention, although partially bashful as anyone would be. He blew out his candles, making a wish (he still believed they would eventually come true) and Zayn helped him cut the cake, feeding it to him and messing his cheek in the process.   
  
Liam cheered from behind his phone where he was filming the whole scene. Harry wanted to kill them both.   
  
All-in-all, he was having a wonderful time. Music played softly through the speakers once they had all gotten back  to their drinking, sitting at the dining room table this time, but getting their drinks from the kitchen.   
  
Fred and Tyler left, it was ten thirty and, even though Harry had a good time with them, he was glad to spend it now with his best friends. Niall had quickly won Harry over what with his Irish accent and contagious laugh.   
  
It was safe to say that by eleven, Harry was proper drunk, insisting that they find a karaoke bar because he wanted to sing Whitney Houston and pouting when they deprived him of the opportunity.   
  
He huffed like a child and marched his way into the living room, searching up a karaoke version of _I Have Nothing_ . Once he found it, he disconnected the phone that was attached to the speaker and plugged his in clumsily. He turned up the volume, waiting for the song to start properly.   
  
Louis walked in, an amused smile on his face and his cheeks a little pink. Harry knew he was tipsy at this point, too. "You really want to sing Whitney, huh?"   
  
"And I am going to," he raised his chin up, proud while the song started to play and he began to sing; loud and unabashedly.   
  
Zayn, Liam and Niall came in, too, laughing as they watched him sing. But, they eventually joined in and each of them found songs to sing to as well.   
  
Zayn and Liam had to do a duet, of course, to Diana Ross and Lionel Richie while Niall sang _Living On A Prayer_ and Louis had _Eye Of The Tiger_ .   
  
All classics and all were sung horribly due to their states--- minus Zayn and Liam, who were relatively sober and didn't sound half as bad as the rest of them.   
  
It was half past midnight when Zayn and Liam left. Louis teased them for being an old married couple but they brushed him off, happy to be labelled that way.   
  
Niall took a taxi shortly after them, kissing each of them goodnight on their lips to which Louis and Harry giggled about.   
  
Harry was left alone with Louis then and he smiled dopily at him.   
  
"What?" Louis questioned, amused.   
  
"'M gonna help you clean up," he slurred, walking to the kitchen before Louis could stop him.   
  
"You really don't have to do that, H," he followed behind him.   
  
Harry shook his head indignantly and picked up a few gin glasses that were on the counter and walked to the sink. He stumbled slightly with the wine glasses but luckily Louis steadied him with a hand on his waist.   
  
He looked at one of the glasses with a frown on his face. "Lou, my glass is empty."   
  
Louis snorted, "that's because you were putting it in the sink, remember?"   
  
"Oh," Harry said then placed it in the sink, "give me a cloth so I can wipe the counter."   
  
"That won't be necessary," Louis stopped him, squeezing his waist gently, "I'll clear this up in the morning, we're both a bit too drunk to do anything right now."   
  
Harry sighed defeatedly and moved out of the kitchen, collapsing onto the sofa and humming comfortably when his head hit the soft pillow, his legs dangling off the side.   
  
"You came with your car, right?" Louis stood in front of him, hands on his hips.   
  
"Yeah,"   
  
"Well, you're sure as hell not going to drive back like this and I don't trust you enough to go with a taxi by yourself."   
  
"Hey," he whined, offended.   
  
"Just crash here for the night," Louis suggested with a nonchalant shrug of his shoulders.   
  
"Okay," he agreed happily, snuggling into the couch pillow.   
  
"Go to the guest bed to sleep, love. Your back will be aching tomorrow morning," Louis hiccuped slightly.   
  
"It's so comfortable here," he groaned.   
  
"Come on," Louis leaned down and patted his thigh, "let's go."   
  
Harry sat up slowly and got off the couch.   
  
Louis guided him to the guest bedroom with his hand on his waist again. The spot burned at the touch but he skillfully ignored opening his mouth about it. It was very hard to when he knew he loved the feeling.   
  
Harry collapsed onto the bed on his stomach, his head turned to the side. He heard Louis giggle.   
  
"Take off your shoes, at least, and get under the duvet," Louis said.   
  
Harry moaned, attempting to kick his shoes off and huffing when it didn’t work.   
  
Before he could even comprehend it, Louis was leaning down and pulling his boots off, along with his socks even though his hands were a bit shaky, too.   
  
"Thank you," Harry grinned at him and moved with great difficulty until the duvet was over his body.   
  
Satisfied and warm, he snuggled into the pillow, feeling his eyelids get heavier.   
  
"I'm going to sleep," Louis announced.   
  
"Wait," Harry called out abruptly and beckoned Louis over.   
  
Louis obliged, standing next to the head of the bed, looking down at Harry.   
  
"Don't you want to cuddle?" Harry asked.   
  
Louis'  eyebrows knitted together, "you want to cuddle?"   
  
"I always want to cuddle," Harry said.   
  
"Fine," Louis sighed, seemingly too tired to even argue, "if you kick me, I'll kick you back."   
  
Harry giggled into his pillow and turned to the other side where Louis sauntered to, almost tripping over Harry's shoes on the way there.   
  
Louis was no better than Harry, only barely getting his own shoes off and pulling down his skinny jeans. Harry pretended to look away by covering his eyes with his hand.   
  
"You're still looking," Louis laughed.   
  
"Am not," Harry protested, looking at Louis through a small opening from his fingers that were over his eyes.   
  
"You can take yours off, too, can't imagine they'd be comfortable to sleep in," Louis mumbled, crawling underneath the duvet and pulling it up to his chin.   
  
Harry grimaced, only then realising how itchy and uncomfortable his jeans were feeling. He unbuttoned his pants and pushed it down, kicking at the duvet too.   
  
"Harry, I swear to god I'm going to fucking kill you," Louis grunted.   
  
"'S off," Harry whined, shrugging it off to the side of the bed but he wasn't really sure if it was fully off the mattress. He didn't really care at this point.   
  
"Good, now stop moving," Louis groaned and turned to his side so that they were facing each other.   
  
"Hi," Harry mumbled, his eyes slowly drifting shut with slow blinks.   
  
"Why are you still talking?" Louis moaned, his eyes shut already.   
  
"You promised a cuddle," Harry shifted closer, despite the slumber taking over his body.   
  
"You may regret this in the morning," Louis finally opened his eyes, searching Harry's eyes worriedly whenever they opened.   
  
"'S just a hug in bed," Harry tried his best to pout.   
  
It worked because Louis let out a resigned sigh and moved closer himself. He raised his hand hesitantly as if unsure about where to place it.   
  
Harry huffed, grabbing his hand and placing it over his waist. Harry moved closer, nuzzling into Louis' chest, bending his head slightly so he was almost tucked underneath Louis' chin.   
  
He felt Louis let out a stuttering breath but he eventually squeezed Harry's waist and relaxed into the cuddle. Harry smiled triumphantly.   
  
"Hey, Louis," he called out. Louis hummed in acknowledgment, "I really feel like kissing you."   
  
Harry felt Louis' heart rate increase; hearing it beat right against his ear.   
  
"You should sleep, Harry," was Louis' reply.   
  
Harry let out a heavy sigh, "I'm just being honest."   
  
"Be honest with me when you're sober," Louis said quietly.

 “Drunk words are sober thoughts?” He offered with a lopsided smile.

Louis smiled at him but it was sadly and Harry hated it. “maybe tell me your sober thoughts when you're sober?”

Harry pouted, “It won't have to mean more than you want it to,” he gulped.

Louis sighed, “harry, let's just sleep, Yeah? It's late.”   
  
Harry let disappointment settle in his chest but he simply nodded and snuggled closer to him, making a mental note to tell him that when he was sober. 

After that, sleep came pretty easily while he was engulfed in warmth from someone else's body. Louis' body.   
  
  
***   
  
  
Harry woke up the next morning with a splitting headache. He turned over onto his back and pinched the bridge of his nose because moving _hurt_ .   
  
He let out a guttural groan, his throat feeling dry and scratchy. He really needed some water and some aspirin.   
  
When he finally opened his eyes, he had to adjust to the harshness of mostly dull room. It was still a mission to open his eyes.   
  
When he did look around, he frowned even more than he did when he woke up because he did not recognise his surroundings and he started to panic.   
  
Hangover forgotten, he shot up and looked around again, trying to recall the events of the night before.   
  
He remembered getting plastered. He sang karaoke with his friends and then Zayn and Liam left and so did Niall and that was pretty much all he remembered. He couldn't recall anything else.   
  
What the fuck?   
  
He got off the bed and then looked down, noticing that he was only in his boxers and his --- smelly--- shirt on. His pants were on the floor along with his shoes at the foot of his bed and the pair of socks thrown around.   
  
Oh god--- he was at Louis'. He was probably at Louis' wasn't he? Judging by the furnished room down to the framed pictures of floral paintings and one of a cute pug, he knew this was definitely Louis' place.   
  
It wasn't Louis' room though. He had been in Louis' room before. This was probably the guest bedroom that was at the end of the hallway.   
  
He huffed, wiping his face with his clammy palms. He sincerely hoped he didn't do anything too crazy to jeopardize their friendship. They were getting along so well.   
  
Reluctantly, he made his way out the room and shut the door behind him as softly as he could. He found his way out the hallway and to the kitchen where Louis stood at the stove, the sound of sizzling filled the room and the smell of something deliciously greasy made his mouth water.   
  
Louis turned around right as he approached the counter. He greeted him with a warm, tired smile, "hey there, how are you feeling?"   
  
He leaned against the side of the stove, facing him with his arms crossed over his chest, his hair disheveled and joggers loose over his hips with a plain t-shirt on. He looked absolutely gorgeous and it wasn't fair. Who looked that good in the early hours of the morning?   
  
"I feel like shit," he groaned and pulled out a bar stool to sit on. He rested his forehead in the palm of his hands.   
  
"Well, lucky for you, I made some bacon and eggs; my hangover special," Louis wiggled his eyebrows and turned around to take the pan off the stove and dish out pieces of the bacon onto the plate.   
  
"You're a lifesaver," Harry hummed in approval as he passed the plate over to Harry, a healthy helping of eggs, bacon and buttered toast on it.   
  
He felt Louis' eyes on him as he gobbled down the food.   
  
"What?" Harry asked, looking at Louis, his chewing slowing down once he noticed a smile on his face.   
  
"You really have a good appetite; I love it. I need to cook for you more often," he said, though it sounded like it was supposed to be private thought.   
  
Harry blushed, "you made my cake yesterday," he blurted out, remembering how touched he was.   
  
"I did. You liked it, didn't you?" Louis asked, his eyes wider and sparkling while gnawing at his bottom lip.   
  
"Loved it," Harry said without missing a beat, "here I thought I was the best baker."   
  
"Well, I still can't get those gingerbread biscuits right so consider yourself the best baker then," Louis sighed dramatically.   
  
Harry chuckled lightly, pushing a forkful of eggs into his mouth, "thank you so much for everything you did yesterday."   
  
"No need to thank me, did it for myself, too. Any excuse for excessive drinking," he winked, "coffee?"   
  
"Please," Harry nodded. As Louis turned to his filtered coffee machine to pour a cup, Harry cleared his throat.   
  
Louis handed Harry the coffee and raised an eyebrow at him.   
  
"Um, speaking of excessive drinking," he trailed off sheepishly.   
  
"Oh yes, the new Whitney Houston," Louis chortled, "Yeah you were really out of it."   
  
"I'm sorry," he groaned into his hands again, "did I do something weird?"   
  
He saw Louis' grin falter a bit but he quickly composed himself, "what do you remember?"   
  
Harry sighed, "not much after Niall left, to be honest... Did he kiss us?"   
  
Louis snorted, "Yeah he gets very kissy-feely when he's drunk."   
  
"Yeah, I get that. I kind of do, too," Harry shrugged, his cheeks hot.   
  
"I know," Louis straightened up and cleared his throat, "You, uh, you asked me to cuddle you."   
  
Harry felt the colour drain from his face, "Oh my god, I'm so sorry."   
  
"It's okay, H," Louis laughed, "but you do get very whiny when you're drunk."   
  
"I've gotten that before, too," Harry huffed, "but I didn't say or do anything stupid, did I?"   
  
Harry felt his heart flutter. He really hoped he didn't do anything stupid. He tended to do stupid shit when he was that level of drunk.   
  
A flash of emotion passed over Louis' face and if Harry hadn't known any better, he would have thought it was disappointment.   
  
Louis smiled, although it didn’t quite reach his eyes, "only clinging on to me like a koala."   
  
Harry chuckled. It seemed like he wasn't being completely honest and Harry wasn't sure if it was a good or bad thing. But he ignored it for the moment and took a bite of his toast.   
  
The rest of the morning was such a long time that he really didn't want to leave Louis' place but he had to because Louis was called in for work and Harry smelt foul and was in desperate need of a shower and a nap.

  
  


***

  


Valentine’s Day was the worst. What with couples celebrating their love and passion for each other in the form of tacky cards, stale chocolates and week-old red roses.   
  
He missed celebrating it.   
  
Unfortunately, he was all alone. Just like he would be for most of the upcoming holidays now.   
  
Zayn and Liam were off to somewhere in central London at a cheesy, romantic holiday inn and Niall had a girlfriend--- that Harry only recently found out about--- and Louis... Louis was out of town for the whole week for work.   
  
It sucked. He hadn't even seen Louis since his birthday because of how busy they both were.   
  
Well, Harry tried meeting up with him a few times but Louis was always busy.   
  
He didn't think that Louis was avoiding him; they texted everyday as per usual. They would send silly pictures to each other (Louis sent Harry one of a dildo and asked him to wear that for his next party), and Harry felt brave about a week ago and called Louis. Louis didn’t even seemed fazed. They exchanged a few more calls between them and Harry found himself getting distracted more often than not.   
  
He was also amazed by how long they could keep a conversation going. Their latest call--- two days before Louis left--- was just over two hours long.   
  
Now, he was in the middle of frozen foods section, looking at the flavours of ice cream when his phone beeped, notifying him that he had a new text.   
  
He knew it was Louis because, well, no one else would text him right now. They're probably too busy banging it out somewhere.   
  
And no, no he was not bitter about other people's sex lives compared to his. Or, lack thereof.   
  
He had a lot of pent up frustration and that he was well aware of but it came in the form of _sexual_ frustration and that was something Harry could not handle all the time.   
  
This past week he wanked almost everyday to the point where he thought that something was physically wrong with him.   
  
He figured it was something to do with the fact that it was leading up to Valentine's Day--- the most romantic holiday of all time (arguably).   
  
Call him a hopeless romantic, but he always went all out for Valentine’s Day, regardless of any of the circumstances.   
  
If he fought with his husbands, Valentine's Day was a day that any fight was forgotten, any misunderstanding, hostility--- whatever it may be--- it was just a day to celebrate love.   
  
For today, it was a day to celebrate loneliness and horniness. There should be a day to celebrate the two. Maybe he would make it his own holiday.   
  
14th of February, Day of Horniness and Loneliness.   
  
He'll mark it in his calendar.   
  
Harry picked out the peanut butter flavoured ice cream and shut the freezer door before walking up to the cashier to pay for it.   
  
It wasn't until he got home and his phone beeped again that he realised that he hadn’t checked his previous message from Louis.   
  
He was already a quarter of the way through his pint of ice cream, blanket over his lap and sat on his bed with his laptop opened.   
  
Harry pulled out his phone from his sweatpants, the spoon hanging from his mouth while he checked the messages.   
  
_Spending my day having a quick workout at the gym then I'm off to bed. Gonna order some room service for supper I think. Maybe I'll order some chocolate covered strawberries to spoil myself a little._   
  
Harry snorted, pulling the spoon out of his mouth and placing it in the pint container that was next to him.  Then, he scrolled down and his breath caught in his throat, his heart was racing and he felt his cock twitch.   
  
Fuck.   
  
Louis--- fucking Louis--- sent a picture of himself, sweaty and shirtless, hair rumpled and 'it is what it is' displayed clearly over his collarbones.   
  
He was so fucking breathtaking. So gorgeous. So hot.   
  
Harry shifted, the blanket over his lap suddenly feeling too hot. He threw it off of him, the fleece falling to the floor. His pants were too tight, his grey sweats tenting.   
  
Before he could even comprehend what was happening, his pants were being pulled down haphazardly with his shaky fingers, the waistband stopping just over his knees and his hand was over his hard cock, red at the tip, moving up and down in slow teasing movements.   
  
He moved over his cock quickly, imagining Louis over him, sweat dripping from his face, his forehead on Harry's while he looks down at him, his pupils blown wide while his nimble fingers explore Harry's body, squeezing at his hips, pinching his nipples, leaning down to bite his neck.   
  
His breathing grew heavier, his phone dropping to the side of his bed while his other hand reached up to pinch his own nipples, crying out, picturing Louis biting and tugging at them, his other hand tweaking his right nipple.   
  
His hand moved quicker, a bead of precome shot out, wetting his shaft, making it easier for his hand to move.   
  
He wanted to spread his legs opened wider, wanted to fondle his balls, maybe tease his hole, seeing Louis do the same to him, licking his tongue over the puckering spot, but his pants didn't allow him to.   
  
The top of them held his knees close together; he couldn't spread them apart and that brought a whole new thrill, the feeling shooting down his spine.   
  
He let out a loud groan, turning his head to the side and glancing at the picture again.   
  
He whimpered. The room filled with obscene, wet sound of his hand moving up and down his cock, slick with precome.   
  
He shut his eyes, unable to keep them opened any longer, the image of Louis above him was making it hard to breathe.   
  
He bucked his hips upwards, fucking up into his fist. His back arched off the bed as he ran his thumb over the tip, his nail catching over the slit slightly that made him hiss, another string of come shooting out.   
  
He was so fucking close.   
  
His mouth opened, the pleasure becoming overwhelming, his mind filled with _Louis Louis Louis_ .   
  
He was taking Harry apart slowly, carefully. Harry remembered how he moaned, how he whimpered.   
  
And he finally let go with a loud 'ah' being shouted into his otherwise quiet room, his hand still moving over his cock to recover from his orgasm.   
  
His come was spilt over his stomach, some landing at the base of his chest as his body shook and heart rate returned back to normal slowly.   
  
He removed his hand from his softened cock and his legs fell limp onto the bed.   
  
He took a few deep breaths to calm himself, feeling the heat run up to his cheeks and ears.   
  
His hand was messed with his come, as was his chest and stomach and it was one of the best orgasms he had in a while.   
  
While fucking thinking about his friend.   
  
_Fuck_. He was so screwed.

  
What the hell had he just done? 


	7. Seven

**March 2018**   
  
Louis was meant to be back five days ago.   
  
That was what he had told Harry before he left.   
  
But, it was weird between Harry and Louis. Had been for a few days now.   
  
From Harry's side, he knew why conversations were a bit stiff and awkward but then, it felt one-sided from Louis as well.   
  
Maybe it was because of how he was acting with Louis. Maybe Louis noticed and he decided that he would act the same towards Harry.   
  
Harry knew Louis though. He wouldn't do that.   
  
He attempted to ask Harry what was wrong and if everything was okay, at first, but little by little, he just stopped asking questions and he felt hostile.   
  
It was up to the point where, when Harry messaged him five days ago to ask when he was back, he didn’t reply. He read it but he didn't reply.   
  
He felt hurt and confused. He wasn't sure, at this point, if it was out of spite.   
  
Harry didn't mean to act weird with Louis but, after Valentine's Day, he just couldn't stop thinking about the fact that he got got off thinking about his friend.   
  
His friend that was slowly becoming one of his best friends. He couldn't fuck it up. All he was doing was trying to get himself together and give himself a little bit of wake up call before speaking to Louis properly again.   
  
He messaged Louis again three days ago, asking him to talk, to which Louis also didn't reply.   
  
Now Harry was starting to panic. He wasn't even sure if Louis was okay. What if something happened to him? Maybe he was stuck at work. Maybe he lost his phone.  
  
He wasn't sure what to think.   
  
He didn't want to believe that Louis was ignoring him. Harry didn't mean to act so weirdly with Louis. He didn't.   
  
He felt even more hurt when he ran into Niall at the grocery store a day ago and asked if Louis was back or not to which Niall frowned, looking slightly surprised and confirmed that yes, he was back, and he had been back for about five days now.   
  
Harry wasn't sure what to do. He could go to Louis' place and confront him there. He could pester him until he replied to Harry.   
  
Harry bit his lip, cuddling his pillow close, rubbing his cheek over the soft case. He sighed.   
  
Maybe he would try one more time to contact Louis and then he would give Louis his space.   
  
Harry was tired of feeling so miserable. He didn't need this anymore. If Louis didn’t want to be his friend anymore, then so be it.   
  
He didn't know what he did, and that was going to kill him, but somehow he always managed to fuck things up.   
  
With shaky hands and a lump in his throat, he reached for his phone and sat up. He dialled Louis' number, his heart thumping in his chest while it rang.   
  
It went straight to voicemail.   
  
He sighed, deciding to leave a message anyways.   
  
"Hey, Lou," he croaked out, "I--- I just wanted to see how you were doing and, um, I--- I don't know what happened but I'm sorry," he felt tears form at the corners of his eyes that he wiped away stubbornly with his knuckles.    
  
"Please talk to me, Lou. I don’t know what I did but we can sort this out. Please," he ended in just a whisper. He hung up before his emotions got the best of him and threw his phone to the side.   
  
He exhaled heavily, rubbing his palm over his face and leaned forward. This felt all too familiar to him and he was tired. He was so, so tired of it.

 

It took him back to the days where he cried over the phone to his husbands to yell at them for destroying what they had, begging for them to give the relationship another go, take back the divorce papers because they could work through things---- he was tired of doing this.With a heavy heart, he rolled out of bed and went to the shower. He let himself cry a little in there but he refused to let go completely because he wasn't ready to lose Louis yet.   
  
He had no fucking clue what he did but he wasn't going to lose him.   
  
For a dumb moment, he thought that Louis somehow knew he got off to his picture and that was why he was ignoring Harry but how the hell would he have known?   
  
He shook his head, turning the shower off and wiping himself dry before walking into his room again.   
  
He only allowed himself to check his phone again after he got changed and he felt his stomach turn when he saw that Louis finally fucking replied. He sent Harry a message.   
  
_Come over tomorrow night. At six._   
  
That was all Harry got. It agitated him but he agreed with a simple 'okay'.   
  
He still felt disappointed by his reply but at least Louis replied this time. All it took was Harry close to crying and begging for Louis to agree to meet him.   
  
Frustration mixed with hurt and irritation and they were all not a good combination.   
  
Before he could do anything else, he decided to just keep himself busy in the meantime.   
  
For the rest of the day, he occupied himself with cooking a meal and baking a dessert --- just for himself --- and watching movies on Netflix.   
  
If it were a normal day, he would message Louis and ask him if he should bring something over or if he needed help to cook something. Maybe they weren't even going to eat. He didn't invite Harry over to dinner, did he?   
  
All Louis said was that Harry should come over at six tomorrow evening. He could just tell Harry off then kick him out for all he knew.   
  
Needless to say, that night was restless and he felt so uncomfortable in his bed. He twisted and turned in his sleep and only really fell into a deep slumber by three in the morning, his mind still wracking his thoughts and emotions.   
  
It would be fine. Whatever it was, it would be fine. Harry was just overthinking everything and doubting their friendship.   
  
They would be fine.   
  
***   
  
After a long day and tired night, he was finally ready to get to Louis'. His shift had just ended half an hour ago so he decided to drive straight to Louis'--- scrubs on, covered with a jumper.   
  
He didn't care at this point. He just wanted to get this over and done with and deal with whatever consequences that followed. Whether that would end poorly or not.   
  
He still had a bottle of wine in his hand, anyways, because it would be the polite thing to do. His mother raised him right, after all. You never go to someone else's house empty handed.   
  
A nervous hand reached up, his shaky finger pressing the doorbell, hearing the ring echo from inside the flat.   
  
Harry looked down at his loafers, his heart beating rapidly in his chest and hand twitching around the neck of the wine bottle.   
  
When the door opened, he was met with Louis' enchanting blue eyes but they were red at the corners. Harry frowned but he didn't say anything.   
  
Wordlessly, Louis moved aside to let Harry in.   
  
He shut the door behind them, standing in front of Harry, both of them in the middle of the hallway that led to his kitchen.   
  
"Harry," he finally spoke and Harry wanted to melt already just from the way it sounded, "look," he sighed, looking down, "why don't we sit down, yeah?"   
  
Harry blinked but nodded anyways, following him to the living room.   
  
Where Harry would normally collapse onto any sofa and relax, he now sat rigid on the end sofa. He placed the bottle on the coffee table then clasped his hands together in front of him. He was avoiding looking at Louis' eyes.   
  
"Harry," Louis called out again. Harry had to look at him then. He was sat on the middle sofa, not too close to Harry but not too far away either.   
  
"I think I should start first," Louis huffed, "if I don't then I won't get everything out that I wanted to say... is that okay?"   
  
"Yeah," Harry finally said.   
  
Louis inhaled then exhaled, as if getting ready to say a big speech. Harry waited anxiously at the edge of his seat for what he was about to say.   
  
"I know why you started to act so... off with me--- at least I think I do. I wasn't sure at first, but after the way you reacted when I mentioned my friend getting to kiss his best friend only when he got drunk and how he rejected his best friend afterwards, I knew my suspicions were correct."   
  
Harry's eyebrows pinched together, perplexed. He wanted to say something, his mouth opened, but Louis' raised his hand, silencing him. He pinched his lips together, waiting for Louis to continue.   
  
"I was hinting at it subtly before that, just to see if you really remembered, but you didn't react to it at all, so when I finally decided to say fuck it and be as obvious as I could be, just so I could make sure, you were kind of, stuttering. Then our conversations felt one-sided and I asked you what was wrong. I thought you would have said something but you didn't so I just---- I felt hurt, okay? I know it was wrong to ignore you like that but I didn't know what else to do--- I just needed some time to clear my head, you know?"   
  
He paused, looking at Harry. Harry... Harry was beyond confused. He wasn't even sure how to react, what to say, what to do--- anything.   
  
"Lou, what, um--- I don’t---" he shook his head, "I'm confused."   
  
Louis was the one to frown at Harry this time, "look, you don't need to play dumb or anything like that. We can talk about this like adults, yeah? It's okay. People say shit when they're drunk," he swallowed, Harry seeing his Adam’s apple bob in his throat.   
  
Why was he so nervous? Why did it look like he was just as upset as Harry was?   
  
"Louis, I--- I swear I didn't mean to act like that with you. It wasn't you at all. You didn't do anything, I promise. It was just me being all weird. That's all," Harry rushed to explain.   
  
"I know and it took me a while to understand. If I were in your shoes, I guess I would have acted in a similar manner so I get it. But, it's okay, people always say weird shit when they're drunk, like I said."   
  
Harry's fingers tingled, "wait, I said something when I was drunk?"   
  
Louis' face twisted in realisation, "wait, you didn’t know?"   
  
"No," Harry said, "what the hell did I say that made you ignore me for almost a week?"   
  
Louis shook his head and wiped his palms over his joggers, "okay, this is embarrassing. Just forget I said anything."   
  
Harry scowled then, getting annoyed, "no, no absolutely not. I deserve to know because I was worried sick when you didn’t even reply to me. I felt horrible when all I did was ask you to speak to me. I missed my friend these past few days and you just ignored me. It's not fair, Louis. You need to be honest with me. If I fucked up when I was drunk then please just fucking tell me," he begged, tears falling from his eyes.   
  
Louis looked startled. He wasted no time in moving closer to Harry and pulling his body close to hug him. Harry's head fell into the crook of his neck, holding onto Louis' jumper tightly. He just let himself enjoy being hugged again.   
  
"I'm sorry, H," Louis dropped his forehead onto Harry's shoulder, "I didn't mean to make you feel that way, I really didn't."   
  
Harry pulled away, wiping his cheeks with his thumbs, "Louis, what did I say?" He croaked out.   
  
"You----" Louis huffed and looked at Harry, "you wanted to kiss me."   
  
Harry searched his eyes, thinking he would be joking, "what?"   
  
"Looking back at all of this now, I may have made it a bigger deal than it actually is but I guess I just, I don't know... felt hurt. I--- I told you to tell me that when you're sober and when you said you didn’t remember the next morning, I let it go. But then you reacted that way after my story so I thought you did remember and just didn't want to tell me or that you were just ignoring it--- something like that. That you didn't want it anymore and were pretending that nothing happened."   
  
Harry wasn't sure how to reply. He bit his bottom lip until he tasted copper and swallowed nervously, "Louis, I swear I didn't know--- I don’t remember that."   
  
Louis sighed, almost as if disappointed, "I know that now and I'm sorry I reacted the way I did. I let my own feelings get in the way of actions towards you when I should have just spoken to you about it. I shouldn't have just assumed things. God, I’m an idiot," he dropped his head into his hands that rested over his knees.   
  
Harry moved closer and gently tugged at his hand so that he removed his head from it. Louis looked at Harry.   
  
"Louis, it's okay," he said, still holding Louis' wrist, his thumb over his pulse point that was rapid under his skin.     
  
"I'm really sorry, H," he said again, his own eyes filled with tears, "I screwed this all up, didn't I?" He groaned, falling onto the back of the couch.   
  
Harry smiled slightly, "I think we both didn't really deal with this well," he leaned back too, turning his head to look at Louis.   
  
They were so close to each other.   
  
_You wanted to kiss me_ seemed to be the only thing that was playing over and over again in his mind.   
  
It hung over them in the air, unsolved and lingering. But, neither of them chose to bring it up. They just stared at each other.   
  
Harry was entranced by his eyes as he always was. They seemed to be a darker blue today; dull and stormy.   
  
"I'm sorry for everything, Louis. I didn't mean to be so stupid," Harry broke the silence, his voice quiet.   
  
Louis snorted, "I didn't mean to be so stupid either."   
  
There were so many questions swarming inside his head.   
  
Louis said he was hurt when he thought Harry remembered but didn't say anything to him. Did that mean he wanted Harry to kiss him when he was sober?   
  
There was no doubt in Harry's mind that he was extremely attracted to Louis. Recent events proved that drastically.   
  
However, what would that lead to?   
  
He remembered what happened the last time; Louis thought Harry wanted a relationship and Harry just wanted one night with him because he wasn't ready for a relationship.   
  
That hasn't changed though. He wasn't ready. Emotionally, his mind was jumbled. He wanted to be at least remotely stable and his heart needed to be pieced back together before he could even think about being with someone else.

 

Would he be interested in something... casual?   
  
The thought made him snort. Their whole relationship was built on a misunderstanding--- somewhat. The whole: casual not-casual thing was a touchy subject.   
  
Still, he was attracted to Louis. It seemed like Louis was attracted to him.   
  
And yet they had there friendship at stake as well. It was different now.   
  
Harry wanted to ask about this kiss more. He wanted to ask Louis now whether he wanted to kiss him or not.   
  
Instead, Harry said, "Louis, I... I’m not really looking for a relationship or anything like that and i don’t want to lead you on o---"   
  
"Harry, let’s put this past us, okay? Forget it happened. We're friends after all, aren't we? I like what I have with you now," There was a flash of a sudden emotion over his eyes but he looked away hastily.   
  
Harry wasn't sure why he felt a sudden wave of disappointment wash over him but he pushed it away because that was what he wanted, too, right?   
  
"Yeah, okay," Harry agreed. He wasn't sure why it still felt like there was an elephant in the room.   
  
"Do you want me to order some pizza? We can have it with the wine you brought," Louis offered, his lips pursed. Harry could tell he was feeling uncomfortable.   
  
"Sure," Harry agreed again, passing him a small smile.   
  
Louis smiled back but his eyes didn't crinkle and Harry didn't like it. He got off the sofa and headed to kitchen where Harry assumed the menu was.   
  
Harry let out a breath, his head falling to the back of the couch. So it was awkward between them again. Great. But they would move past it. They did the last time so they could do it again.   
  
He sat up straight when he heard Louis' footsteps approach the living room again.   
  
"Ordered?"   
  
"Yeah. It'll be here in fifteen," he sat down again, two wine glasses in his hand. He handed Harry one.   
  
Harry accepted it with a grateful smile and poured a glass for both of them.   
  
"How was your trip?" Harry asked, swallowing his first sip of wine.   
  
Wine was a good idea; they would both be so much more relaxed.   
  
"Hectic," Louis huffed, sitting back. He extended his legs out so they rested on the coffee table, "had an awkward run-in with my ex."   
  
"Yikes," Harry hissed, "what happened?"   
  
"Well, we looked at each for a good few seconds then looked away. He was in my way and I was in his so we accidentally bumped into each other while walking our respective paths and then proceeded to apologise to each for way too long before we both walked away," he sipped his wine again and sighed.   
  
Harry observed him carefully. He seemed... sad. He refused to believe that it was because of their conversation. Maybe it was because of Louis' ex.   
  
"Didn't have a good breakup, I’m guessing," Harry said, for lack of better thoughts.   
  
"Messy," Louis grimaced. He placed the wine glass over his thigh, twirling the stem between his thumb and pointer finger.   
  
"What happened? If you don't mind me asking, of course," Harry shifted closer to him, suddenly interested in his story. They always spoke about Harry and what was going in his life. He hardly knew anything about Louis and the realisation scared him a little bit.   
  
"Well," he sighed, "it's the cliché story, really, we were both young and stupid and in love and we didn't realise the harsh reality of the world."   
  
Harry frowned, "elaborate a little for me, please? I feel like I know nothing about you, Lou."   
  
Louis looked up at him, their gazes locked. Harry felt a shiver run down his spine, goosebumps erupting on his arms and behind his neck.   
  
"We dated back in uni. He was my first serious boyfriend and we had all of these plans for the future. We wanted to move in together after we finished studying and get married, get a dog--- he wasn't too fond of kids," he let out a humourless laugh, "but then I got an internship for Calibre magazine and it was in London and he didn't want to move away with me because he planned on taking over his dad's business in Manchester."   
  
Harry could see where this was going. He gave Louis a sad, half-hearted smile when he looked at Harry again.   
  
"It just went downhill from there, honestly. I wanted to try long distance for a while but he didn't. He said he didn't see how it would work out because he didn't plan on leaving Manchester--- ever--- and I said that working for a company as big as Calibre had been a dream come true and I wasn't going to give it up,"   
  
"So you guys kind of left things unfinished?" Harry asked, his tone cautious.   
  
"I guess you could say that," Louis hummed, "we just fought a lot and at the end of the day it was better if we broke it off since neither one of us wanted to sacrifice what we had."   
  
Harry felt his heart constrict, "Louis, it's okay, you know that right? You didn’t do anything wrong."   
  
Louis looked at him dubiously and shrugged, "I guess but... sometimes I wonder what would have happened if I hadn't taken the internship and stayed with him in Manchester or if he came to London with me. It's hard not to think of what could have been."   
  
"Yeah, I know how you feel," Harry said quietly, looking down at his lap, his glass on one thigh and ring-clad fingers spread over the other, "my first husband was also my first serious relationship and we met in uni."   
  
"No offense but your ex was way more of an asshole," Louis snorted.   
  
Harry laughed, he turned to look at Louis then, his laughter coming to a stop, "do you miss him?"   
  
He swallowed, waiting for Louis to answer. He wasn't sure why he dreaded one answer over the other. He had no right to.   
  
"Occasionally," Louis shrugged, "who doesn't miss some of their exes now and then, you know?"   
  
Well, he had a point. Of course Harry missed his exes sometimes. He married them for Christs sake.   
  
Harry made a noise of agreement, "so you guys didn't have the whole 'if-we-meet-in-ten-years-time-and-we're-both-still-single' deal?"   
  
Louis let out a breathy laugh, "no, and I'm glad we don’t. I always felt like that was holding onto something you don't have anymore and I don’t want to do that. I want to move on. I'm 34 now, H," he looked at Harry, "I want to settle down--- I want a serious relationship. I'm too old to be mucking about, you know?"   
  
Harry laughed nervously, swallowing the lump in his throat, "never too old to do anything," he chose to say.   
  
Louis pursed his lips and looked away, "right," he said, bring the glass to his lips and gulping down the last bit of the dark, burgundy liquid.   
  
"Tell me about your other asshole boyfriends then," Harry said quickly, not wanting the tension to fill up the air between them again.   
  
Louis' legs fell from the coffee table momentarily to place his glass down before putting them back up and folding his arms behind his head. "Well, after that was a few short relationships, some one-night-stands, then about four years ago I finally met someone I wanted to have a proper relationship with, you know? I was happy for about a year or so and then, well, we just stopped working. Those things happen--- it didn't end badly, at least."   
  
"Nothing after that?" Harry asked curiously.   
  
"No one really caught my eye," the _until you_ remained unsaid.   
  
Harry felt a load of guilt being dropped onto him like a ton of bricks. He swallowed his last few sips of wine, letting out a small hiss and placing his own glass next to Louis'.   
  
"That wasn't meant as a dig at you, I promise," Louis said quickly.   
  
"I know," Harry gave him a half-hearted smile and looked away, "No one interested in you then? From work, maybe?"   
  
And he didn't know why he asked that. Maybe Harry was just a masochist.   
  
"Um, well, there is this one guy--- Jason--- but I don't know if I'm interested to be honest," he looked down, admitting it almost sheepishly.   
  
"Why not?"   
  
As soon as the words came out of his mouth, Harry wanted to kick himself. He wasn't an idiot. He realised that Louis might have liked him for a while now. Heck, he had known that since they decided to be friends. Louis said he wanted something with Harry that was more than just one night--- maybe Louis really never got over it.   
  
Louis raised an eyebrow at him.   
  
The _because of you_ again was something that went unsaid.   
  
"'M sorry, Louis," he said, unsure of what else to say. He didn't want to hurt Louis anymore --- he never wanted to hurt him in the first place.   
  
"Harry," he said softly, "it's not your fault for being honest, yeah?"   
  
Harry nodded but he didn't quite believe it. Was he being honest?   
  
Right as Louis opened his mouth to speak again, the doorbell rang.   
  
Louis jumped up before Harry could even move.   
  
"I'll get it," he said, trudging up to the front door.   
  
Harry gnawed at his bottom lip, deep in thought. He was being honest. He had to have been honest. Why else would he say he wasn't ready for a relationship? How would that benefit him, lying about something like that?   
  
Besides, Louis was wonderful. He deserved better than Harry.   
  
Harry, who was an indecisive, emotionally unstable mess. Like Louis said, he wanted something serious--- he wanted to settle down now.   
  
Harry didn’t want to settle down with anyone anymore. He didn't.   
  
Even if he did have a smidge of feelings towards Louis _(if),_ he wouldn't do anything about it. Louis deserved someone much better. He deserved more than what Harry could offer.   
  
He would have to push whatever he felt down and he would be Louis' friend. Harry will be a damn good friend too.   
  
When the time had to come for Louis to see someone else--- long-term or not--- he would smile happily because his friend would be happy.   
  
"Pizza is here," Louis grinned, placing the box on the table.   
  
Harry watched Louis grab a slice and chew on it greedily, humming in delight and getting comfortable over the sofa again.   
  
"What?" Louis asked, mouthful of pizza.   
  
Harry shook his head, taking a slice for himself. He willed himself to not feel anything. He had no right to--- he wasn't ready, anyways, right? He told Louis that. He couldn't keep leading him on or playing with his feelings.   
  
It was time he stopped being so selfish and let Louis move on with his life so he could do the same.

 

***

  
It took a while for things to actually go back to the way they were. They were okay now. Their conversations were back to normal, they met each other at least twice a week for drinks or dinner and sometimes they would for lunch.   
  
It just scared Harry how comfortable he felt around Louis in such a short amount of time. It was something he never got over, if he was being honest.   
  
Now, Louis decided that he would have a little get together with the boys at his place because, apparently, he had some news to share with everyone.   
  
He had asked Harry to help him shop for snacks and drinks for later on, which brought them to Tesco's cereal aisle, for some reason.   
  
"I thought this was supposed to be for your party," Harry frowned as Louis scanned the array of sugary cereals.   
  
"Well, I ran out of cereal so I might as well just get some anyways," he said off-handedly, picking out the box of coco pops. Of course he did. "And it's not a party," he added, placing the box into the basket.   
  
"Well it's more than five people meeting at a house and having drinks so that's a party," Harry argued stubbornly.   
  
Louis rolled his eyes, walking past him and down to the crisps, "it's not, H. Let it go."   
  
"You let it go," he mumbled back, petulantly.   
  
Louis sighed, looking at Harry, a small smile on his face, "you're a child."   
  
"Says the 34-year-old still buying a box of Coco Pops," Harry said, affronted.   
  
"Coco Pops will always be delicious and it doesn't matter how old you are to eat it," Louis said, now scanning the crisps, "is Lays okay?"   
  
Harry shrugged, "it's your party."   
  
"Oh, fuck off," Louis replied, snarky and scoffing, aggressively grabbing a green bag and throwing it into the basket.   
  
Harry giggled to himself, "I love getting you all riled up. You're adorable."   
  
Louis ignored the comment, rolled his eyes and walked away. "I need to get some milk," he mumbled to himself but Harry heard and he couldn't help it.   
  
"For your Coco Pops," Harry giggled.   
  
Louis stopped in his steps, turned around abruptly and glared at him, "I will not hesitate pouring that milk over your head and down your pants."   
  
His eyes were fixed on Harry's and he shouldn't have felt a spark up his spine and heart rate increase, but he did anyways.   
  
He cleared his throat, his playful smile disappearing and he looked down at the floor, "sorry," he laughed awkwardly, "let's just get your milk."   
  
He could feel Louis' eyes still on him for a second or two longer before he turned back around and walked down to the aisle where the milk was.   
  
Harry kept his remarks to himself after that. It was stupid because all Louis did was look at Harry and Harry felt like he couldn't breathe.   
  
He made Harry feel so nervous and happy all at the same time. It was confusing.   
  
"Hey, H," Louis called out, "do you want some ice cream?"   
  
Harry nodded excitedly. He knew he finished his ice cream a few weeks ago and he needed to restock because, well, he had to.   
  
"Peanut butter?" Louis grimaced, walking up the freezer.   
  
"Always," Harry replied easily, "you just have bad taste in most things."   
  
"You like pineapple on your pizza. It's atrocious," Louis said, opening the fridge and grabbing the pint of ice cream.   
  
"It's delicious and you would know that if you just stopped being a stubborn git and actually tasted it," Harry narrowed his eyes, accepting the tub from him and dropping it into his own basket.   
  
"I'll try pineapple on pizza the day you try cheese and peanut butter in a sandwich," Louis smirked, shutting the door.   
  
"Louis, that's disgusting," Harry wrinkled his nose.   
  
Louis laughed, almost fondly, "you look adorable when you do that."   
  
Harry laughed shyly and looked down at the ground.   
  
This was flirting, wasn't it? They had to stop doing that.   
  
"So, do we get some crackers and cheese, too?" Louis cleared his throat.   
  
"With some wine? Why not?" Harry smiled.   
  
Just as they started to walk again, Harry stopped in his tracks, his eyes catching the familiar dirty blonde hair a few steps away.   
  
And Louis was still walking. Fuck. Louis stood next to his ex fucking husband in the cheese section of Tesco.   
  
Louis turned to look at him, eyebrows pinched together, "H?" He called out.   
  
Fuck.   
  
Harry squeezed his eyes shut. When he opened them, he saw those hazel eyes meet his.   
  
The same ones he saw countless mornings and nights; sad and happy, angry and frustrated.   
  
His eyes widened and eyebrows shot up. It was then that Harry noticed that there was a man behind him. He had a good idea of who that man was.   
  
"Harry," Alex said.   
  
Louis turned around to look at Alex, stepping away to study him, almost scrutinizing. Then he looked at Harry again and he must have noticed Harry's pale face and shaking hands because he immediately walked up to him.   
  
"You okay, love?" He asked Harry, not loudly but not soft enough. Alex definitely heard and Harry had his suspicions that Louis may have done it on purpose.   
  
He had his free hand on Harry's back, the touch feeling comforting.   
  
Then, Alex walked up to them with his new lover following behind him with hesitant eyes.   
  
"Hello, Harry," Alex said, standing a few centimeters away from Harry but still too close for Harry's comfort.   
  
"Hey," Harry finally said, hating the way his voice broke.   
  
"I'm Louis, and you are?" Louis suddenly chimed in, extending his hand out ever so politely. Harry could see through it. He was approaching cautiously, his guard up and hand still on Harry but this time it was down at Harry's waist, pulling him closer.   
  
Harry blinked, trying not to think about--- about anything really because everything was just too overwhelming for him.   
  
"Alex," he shook Louis' hand courteously before pulling away.   
  
Alex was a little taller than Louis, but Harry could tell that Alex was feeling intimidated if his clenched jaw was anything to go by.   
  
"How are you doing, Harry?" Alex cleared his throat, pointedly ignoring Louis' daggers.   
  
"I'm fine, and you?" Harry asked as politely as possible.   
  
The man behind Alex remained quiet, his cheeks red and eyes moving around the store--- anywhere but towards them.   
  
"Good, good," he nodded then stepped back, pushing the brunette man forward, "this is Darren."   
  
Darren pursed his lips into a tight smile, clearly feeling awkward.   
  
Good.   
  
"Right," Louis said, saving Harry from even more embarrassment, "I think we should go, H."   
  
He squeezed Harry's waist and Harry nodded without missing a beat.   
  
"'S a bit rude, don't you think?" Alex frowned at them just as they were about to turn away from them.   
  
"What's a bit rude?" Louis asked, his expression rigid yet challenging. He hadn’t seen Louis like this before.   
  
"I'm having a conversation with someone and introducing them to my friend over here but you're taking him away from me," Alex stepped up, right in front of Louis this time yet still seemed calm.   
  
"Alex, just back off, would you?" Harry asked, exasperated.   
  
Alex used to do this all the time when he was jealous and it was one of the most annoying things that Harry had to deal with because he became this paranoid, irrational man that Harry had no patience for.   
  
Besides, he had no right to be jealous.   
  
"I'm just trying to have a civil conversation but your little boy toy over here is being rude, don't you think?"   
  
Harry gaped at him, "he's not a boy toy, Alex. Just fuck off and leave us alone," he gritted his teeth, annoyed.   
  
He had a smug look on his face that Harry wanted to just slap off. He stepped back and raised his hands up as if he were surrendering.   
  
"Didn't know you'd move on that easily, Harry, when you were practically begging for me to stay with you only a few months ago. Then again, you were that easy with me, weren't you? Got into bed with me only a weeks after you and Connor got divorced," he smirked.   
  
Harry felt his eyes water. Before he could even comprehend anything, he saw Louis pushing at Alex's shoulders so that Alex stumbled back, an angry look on his face that quickly turned back into that damn smirk.   
  
"Your lil twink got some muscle here," he chuckled dryly.   
  
Darren then came to Alex, tugging at his hand and pleading for them to walk away.   
  
While Alex looked at Darren, Louis boxed Alex in, grabbing him by his collars and pushing him against the shelves.   
  
A few boxes fell to ground and that was when Harry sprung into action, moving towards Louis and placing a hand on his shoulder.   
  
"You're a fucking pig," Louis spat, pushing him one last time before letting him go.   
  
Alex narrowed his eyes at him, scowling, "can't believe you bedded the first fucking person you saw."   
  
Louis almost went back in but Harry squeezed his shoulder, "Lou, let's just go," he pleaded.   
  
Darren was now by Alex's side, rubbing up and down his arm soothingly.   
  
Louis passed them both one last venomous look before grabbing the basket from the floor (Harry didn’t even know when he dropped it) and walked away.   
  
Harry followed him silently as they stopped at the cashier. Louis was fuming, Harry could see that, judging by the flare of his nostrils and red cheeks.   
  
Harry was, too, mixed with frustration, sadness and a bit of exasperation. He wasn't sure what to feel but he knew it all felt too much and it brought tears to his eyes.   
  
He tried to hide them as he paid and as they walked to the car but he let out a sniffle and that caught Louis' attention.   
  
He stopped just as they reached the boot of the car and turned to Harry, his features softening immensely.   
  
He gave him a sympathetic smile and held his hand out to take Harry's packet. Harry gave it to him, watching Louis place it inside the car and close the boot.   
  
"Come here," Louis gestured to the backseat of the car, opening the right door.   
  
Harry looked at him, confused but obliged anyways. He shifted until he was in the middle then Louis climbed in, joining him in the backseat.   
  
He opened up his arms and Harry fell into them. He lost count of how many times Louis had done this for him now.   
  
"It's all right, love," Louis' arms snaked around his shoulder and pulled him closer while the other rubbed soothing circles onto his back.   
  
"I'm so sorry," Harry sniffled into Louis' jacket, his arms wrapped tightly around Louis' waist.   
  
"It's okay, H. It's not your fault. He's a dick," Louis whispered. Harry could feel his breath over his ear while he cried.   
  
"He is," Harry croaked out, "I don't know why he was so mean--- he used to act like this when he got jealous."   
  
"Well fuck him, he can't be jealous anymore because he lost you. He should feel like shit though," Louis said and Harry let out a weak laugh.   
  
"I really am sorry about what he said to you," Harry felt tears wet the rough material of his jacket. He couldn't bear to look Louis in the eye after that.     
  
"Like I said, he's a dick," Louis shrugged it off, squeezing his shoulders and pulling him closer, "I'm sorry about what he said to you."   
  
"He's always been nasty like that,"   
  
Louis pulled away slightly to look down at Harry, "jeez, you really know how to pick 'em don't you?"   
  
"Well, not to this extent but he's like that," Harry mumbled, dropping his head down to Louis shoulder again.   
  
"I'm glad you're not with someone like him anymore," Louis said quietly.   
  
"Me too," Harry gulped, feeling new tears surface. Before he knew it, he was crying again and he just wasn't even sure why anymore.   
  
"Love," Louis muttered helplessly, pulling Harry close and hugging him. He dropped a soft kiss to his hair while he held Harry.   
  
"I'm sorry, Lou," Harry pulled away, wiping at his eyes assertively, "this was supposed to be your night and the boys must be on their way already and I just ruined everything fo---"   
  
"Hey, hey," Louis rushed to quiet him, "it's not your fault, Harry and I'll just send the boys a message now to say that I've cancelled," he said, already pulling out his phone.   
  
A drop of guilt fell to his stomach, "no, Louis. You don't have to do that I---"   
  
"Harry, it's okay," Louis insisted, already typing away on his phone. He pushed it back into his pocket and grabbed Harry's hands, placing them onto his lap, "besides, I mostly just wanted to tell you."   
  
Harry's heart warmed, a vast difference to how he felt a few minutes ago. "Really?"   
  
"Yeah, really. You're, like, my best friend, you nut," he laughed.   
  
"Don't tell Niall that," Harry said, smiling, "what is it, then?"   
  
Louis cleared his throat, seeming shy and Harry just wanted to hug him.   
  
"So, I, um, sort of got an opportunity to display one of my works at Claire's gallery down on South Street," he let out a breath, smiling.   
  
Harry engulfed him in a hug, "that's amazing, Lou. I'm so proud of you,"   
  
"Thanks," Louis leaned into the hug more before pulling away, "I just wanted to let you guys know because I want all of you guys there for the opening night."   
  
"Of course I'll be there," Harry said instantly.   
  
"You don't even know when it is," Louis grinned.   
  
"Doesn't matter, I'll make a plan anyways. This is huge, Lou," he reached over this time and squeezed Louis' hand.   
  
"That means a lot to me, H. Thank you," Louis smiled softly.   
  
"You're welcome. Now when is it?" He asked excitedly.   
  
"It's in June--- the first week."   
  
"I don't think I'll be doing anything the first week of June and even if I have to, I'll move it to the next."   
  
"That means so much to me, H, you have no idea," Louis squeezed his hand back and looked at Harry again.   
  
Harry couldn't explain what it was that he felt every time they stared at each other like this. He felt a zip through his chest, a shiver down his spine, a tingle at his fingertips and his breath catch at his throat.   
  
It was as if Louis' eyes held this weird power over him and he couldn't look away--- if he did, it was with great difficulty.   
  
He was always someone that was big on eye contact. It was rude not to look someone in the eye while talking to them. It was like you weren't giving them your full attention and he never could understand people that didn't maintain eye contact.   
  
It wasn't like you had stare creepily at them or something. Just every once in a while, while they spoke about something--- that sort of thing.   
  
But right now, it was like he understood it fully.   
  
Looking at Louis, maintaining that eye contact with him, felt so intense. He could feel it in his bones.   
  
It was like the blue of his eyes embedded themselves into his veins and even when he did eventually look away, that was all he could think about.   
  
Harry was convinced Louis did it on purpose. He was simply mesmerized by them but he shrugged it off.   
  
People have beautiful eyes and sometimes you do end up staring at them longer than usual.   
  
Louis was one of those people, that was all it was.   
  
"Um," Louis blinked, pulling his hand away from Harry's. Harry missed the warmth of his hand already, "we should head back."   
  
Harry nodded, "you have some extra snacks for next time then," he laughed half-heartedly.   
  
"Yeah," Louis' mouth twitched before he got out the car.   
  
Harry followed him, going to the passenger seat and buckling himself up.   
  
"Can't believe you let me drive your car," Louis smiled, pulling out the lot (after almost knocking a stray trolley).   
  
"I can't believe I let you do a lot of things," Harry said absent-mindedly, not even realising the ambiguity of the sentence until after he said it out loud.   
  
Louis didn't seem fazed though. His eyes were focused on the road ahead. So, Harry pushed it away. That was what he said to himself; any feelings get pushed away.   
  
Except, he wasn't even sure what he was feeling nor did he know how long he could keep pushing them away before they exploded.   
  
But, for now, this was the best Harry could do. 


	8. Eight

**April 2018**   
  
It was the end of the first week of April when Louis called Harry while he was at work, busy with a patient, withdrawing their blood.   
  
He missed the call, obviously, but as soon as he was done, he called him right back and immediately thanked God that he was sat down because Louis was crying.   
  
"Lou?" He whispered, voice concerned and heart hammering against his ribcage.   
  
"H," he greeted back, sniffing.   
  
"What's wrong, Lou?" Harry swallowed.   
  
"I--- um, my nan, she---" he choked on a sob and Harry felt himself getting emotional.   
  
"Oh, Louis," Harry mumbled sadly, already seeing where this was going.   
  
"Yeah," he croaked out, "I'm ju---"   
  
"Louis, where you? I'll come get you," Harry already started to move towards the exit.  
  
"Uh," Harry heard him clear his throat, "I'm--- I'm home but I--- I need you."   
  
Harry felt tears well up in his eyes at that. His heart felt warm. "I'm coming, Lou. Just hold on, babe."   
  
He hadn't even realised the term of endearment left his mouth until after he got into the car, Louis was still on the other side, sniffing softly while Harry's heart broke piece by piece.   
  
"Louis, I'm almost there," he kept up with the reassuring words, making sure he was with Louis still, even if it was over the phone.   
  
"H, you really don't have to, I promise you, I'll be fine," Louis said just as he parked outside of the pub.   
  
"I'm here already. Too late," Harry smiled softly, "it's not a problem."   
  
"God, you left work for me, didn't you?" Louis chuckled lightly on the other end of the line.   
  
"You would have done the same for me," Harry said, "and I'm always gonna be there for you."   
  
"Thank you," Louis said quietly just as Harry reached his door.   
  
"I'm here," Harry said, still ringing the doorbell anyways.   
  
As the door opened, Harry pushed his phone into his coat pocket and engulfed him into a hug, not even bothering to look or pay attention to anything else.   
  
"I'm sorry, Lou," Harry tightened his hold, feelings his coat getting wet and Louis' body shaking, his sobs were loud and alarming and Harry felt so helpless. He didn't know what to do except hold him.   
  
It took about a minute before Louis pulled away and Harry's chest ached when he saw Louis' red eyes and wet cheeks.   
  
"Get in, you git," Louis said, his voice was cracking as he spoke and he tried for a smile but failed.   
  
Harry walked in and shut the door behind him. He looked at Louis worriedly, "do you want some tea?" He offered.   
  
"Yeah," Louis nodded, looking down and wiping at his eyes.   
  
Harry squeezed his forearm before walking to the kitchen to make some tea.   
  
Louis was sat at his usual spot; the middle sofa, right at left corner. His legs were up, crossed over one another and his head rested on the back of the couch, eye shut.   
  
"Lou," Harry called out, approaching him slowly.   
  
He handed Louis the cup once he opened his eyes. Louis thanked him with a small smile before taking a tentative sip.   
  
Harry sat down next to him, waiting for him to say something while he drank his tea. He didn't want to push.   
  
"Mum called this morning to tell me," he started, his cup placed over his lap.   
  
"I'm so sorry," Harry swallowed. He wasn't sure what else to say at times like this.   
  
Louis glanced at him, a sad smile on his lips, "she is--- was old so we all sort of expected but it doesn't hurt any less, you know?"   
  
"How old was she?" Harry asked curiously.   
  
"86."   
  
"Wow," Harry's eyes widened.   
  
"Yeah," Louis let out a humourless laugh, taking the cup to his lips again before taking a sip, his lips smacking together as he pulled away, "I'm sorry I was so... emotional."   
  
"No, no," Harry moved closer to Louis, his arm moving carefully around Louis' shoulders to pull him closer, "you don't have to apologise for that, Lou, you're hurt."   
  
Harry breathed out a sigh of relief when Louis leaned into him, his head falling onto Harry's shoulder, "Thank you for coming so quickly."   
  
"Don't even mention it," Harry shrugged it off, "what can I do to cheer you up, Lou?"   
  
Louis let out tired sigh, rolling his head onto the back of the sofa and away from Harry.   
  
Harry retreated his hand and cupped it around the ceramic mug, waiting for Louis to reply.   
  
"You know what I could use right now?" He lolled his head to the side, looking at Harry with a smile-- a tiny one, but still a smile.   
  
Harry caught on, a smile taking over his own face, "you sure you want to do that right now?"   
  
"Harry, literally nothing would make me happier right now. I need a distraction and those biscuits are the perfect one. You know that, remember?"   
  
Harry nodded slowly, "okay, whatever you want then." He got off the sofa and extended his hand, "come on."   
  
Louis raised an eyebrow at him, but took his hand anyway.   
  
And, okay. They were holding hands and walking to the kitchen. That was---- it was fine. It was totally fine. Friends do that sometimes.   
  
He just had to ignore the zip he felt through his fingers.   
  
He let go when his hand felt like it was burning and tried to do it as nonchalantly as possible.   
  
"You still have everything we need to make it?" He asked, clearing his throat and looking at Louis.   
  
Louis was leaning against counter, his arms crossed over his chest. He nodded shortly, attempting at a smile again.   
  
He looked small and sad and his eyes were still red and cheeks still blotchy.   
  
Harry wanted to hug him again. So he did exactly that.   
  
He walked up to him in a brave movement and wrapped his arms around Louis' shoulders, squeezing tightly. Louis hid his face into Harry's shoulder, not hesitating to hug him back.   
  
Harry felt Louis' lips wobble but he didn't cry. Instead, Louis pulled away quickly and wiped at his eyes.   
  
"Let’s get baking, yeah?" He gulped.   
  
"Yeah," Harry agreed softly.   
  
If it would make Louis happy, even for just a few minutes, then it would be absolutely worth it.   
  
Harry guided Louis through the process just like the last time they did but Louis was much more confident this time around and he surprisingly did majority of it without Harry having to tell him to do so.   
  
Harry was pleasantly surprised.   
  
They were sat at the same position they were the last time they had done this; on the floor, leaning against the cupboards with the bowl of dough between them.   
  
It was a comfortable silence between them, but Harry could tell Louis was tense, rightfully so.   
  
"Mum says the funeral in this weekend," he finally said, pushing the bowl towards Harry. He grabbed up where the cloth was dangling and pulled it off the counter to wipe his hands.  
  
"Oh," Harry said, crossing his leg over the other, "when are you leaving?"   
  
"I'm, um, I'm leaving Friday afternoon and I plan to be back by Sunday night," his eyes were fixed on the tiles and he was wringing his hands, almost as if he were nervous.   
  
"What is it?" Harry asked, frowning.   
  
Louis finally gazed up at him, "um, if it's not too much to ask, would you come with me?"   
  
Harry inhaled sharply, his heart hammering against his chest. "You would want that?"   
  
Louis let out a loud snort, "I did ask you, love, didn't I?"   
  
"Right," Harry looked down, his cheeks heating up, feeling a bit dumb, "I--- what time are you leaving?"   
  
Louis seemed surprised, his eyes widening slightly, "probably after I finish work--- so about half four."   
  
Harry gnawed at his bottom lip, "my shift will be over by then," he looked at Louis, "how were you going to go?"   
  
"I have a car," Louis smirked.   
  
"You have a car?"   
  
That was news to Harry because every time they went places, Harry drove with his car or he let Louis drive his car once in a blue moon. It wasn't an issue of course--- he just wasn't aware Louis had a vehicle of his own.   
  
"Yeah, it's a bit beat up, which is why I haven't used it in a while, but I got it repaired recently--- talk about timing," he let out a humourless chuckle. Harry winced. "I also hate driving so there's that, but I'll drive for this trip because, well, I need something to distract me."   
  
"Lou, are you sure? I really don't mind driving. I co---"   
  
"So you'll come then?" Louis' eyes twinkled hopefully.   
  
"Yeah," Harry smiled, "I can't wait to see you drive your own car."   
  
Louis' nose wrinkled, "I do hate driving, you know that already, and I may be a bit rusty with my car because it's a manual, but I don't think I'm too bad at it."   
  
"Well, we'll see on Friday then," Harry sneaked his hand over to Louis' to hold it again.   
  
Louis looked at him, shocked but let him do it anyways. Their fingers intertwined slowly, resting between them.   
  
"I don't think it's hit me enough as of yet," Louis whispered. He looked at Harry, "is that stupid?"   
  
"No, it's not."   
  
Harry remembered how he had felt the same way through his divorces but he didn't want to say anything about that because it wasn't about him, it was about Louis.   
  
Louis nodded but Harry wasn't sure if he was fully convinced, "Thank you again for coming, H."   
  
"Stop, Lou. You don't have to thank me," Harry reprimanded softly.   
  
"Yeah, but you left your work early and you didn't have to do that," Louis argued back, ever so stubborn.  
  
"I just had to sign out. They didn't mind. Besides, I was mostly done for the day anyways. I had only an hour left for my shift," Harry spewed out explanations.   
  
It was a lie. He had about two and a half hours left at work and he knew he would have to make it up by night shifts during the coming week. That and the fact that he would have to take off this weekend, too.   
  
Luckily, this job of his wasn't as strict with his hours as his previous one. If it were his previous job, he wouldn’t even have gotten permission to get off, nor would he have been able to leave work as early as he did today.   
  
"You sure you'll be fine to come with me this weekend?"   
  
Harry sighed, grinning at Louis softly, "Louis, it'll be okay."   
  
Louis smiled back, just as gentle. "It'll be okay," he repeated, exhaling loudly.   
  
And, yes, it would be okay. Everything would be fine.   
  
***  
  
When Friday came, Harry waited outside the hospital, a comfortable pair of trousers on and a plain shirt over his torso. He had changed before walking out because he didn't have time to go home and freshen up.   
  
Louis said he should look out for a red Ford 300. Harry didn’t even know people still owned those. He remembered his grandfather's brother having a green one that was parked outside the house, idling on the grass that no one ever used.   
  
After about ten minutes, the red Ford pulled up in front of hospital where Louis was sat in the driver's seat, smiling as he rolled the window down.   
  
"Hey," he greeted Harry.   
  
Harry smiled back, walking to the car and opening the passenger side door, jumping in.   
  
"Hey," he greeted back.   
  
He was treading lightly today, not exactly sure how Louis was feeling or how he was going to react.   
  
It had been two days since he found out about his nan and he was really upset, Harry could see that. He was at Louis' most nights, even if it was just for a few hours to keep him company.   
  
Louis hadn’t cried again since Wednesday afternoon but Harry anticipated the gates to flood open this weekend.   
  
He would be there for Louis when it did. He would hold him, console him--- whatever he needed.   
  
"How are you?" Louis asked Harry, turning out of the hospital.   
  
He was wearing sweatpants and a jumper, a cap covering his messy hair. He looked cosy and lovely as always.   
  
"I'm fine," he replied. He bit his lip then looked at Louis, "how are you feeling?"   
  
Louis sighed, "I'm not quite sure, if I'm being honest."   
  
"That's okay," Harry was quick to reassure him, "sometimes we don’t know how we feel but that's fine because it's normal."   
  
Louis glanced at him, an amused lift to his lips, "are you sure you're okay?"   
  
Harry shrugged, "I'm fine."   
  
"H, right now, I'm fine, okay? As soon as I'm not, I'll let you know. I promise."   
  
Harry stared at him dubiously, "are you sure?"   
  
"Yes, I'm sure," he rolled his eyes playfully, "now put that bag of yours in the backseat, would you?"   
  
Harry glanced down at his bag briefly before obliging and turning around to sit it down in the middle seat.  
  
He huffed, remembering to put his seatbelt on then examined the inside of the car.   
  
"'S quite old, isn't it?"   
  
Harry hoped he didn't sound too pretentious saying that. Luckily, Louis chuckled.   
  
"It was my mum's first car, actually," he explained, a fond tone to his voice, "I was almost born in the backseat right where your bag is."   
  
Harry widened his eyes, looking at his bag through the rearview mirror, marginally horrified.   
  
Louis cackled, seeing his expression. "I said almost, love. Relax."   
  
Harry shook his head but couldn't help the smile that fought its way onto his face.   
  
He felt a little more relaxed and at ease.   
  
"You're sure you're okay driving?" Harry asked again, watching Louis struggle a bit with the gears.   
  
"Yeah, it's just a bit annoying to drive a manual car especially after so long," he grumbled, finally getting it into the right gear and pressing down on the accelerator.   
  
"I'm not very good at driving a manual car," he admitted.   
  
"When last did you drive one?" Louis asked, eyes on the road.

"Can't even remember to be honest," he mumbled.   
  
It was clear he hadn't driven in a while from the way his movements were so shaky and hesitant.   
  
Harry had planned on sleeping for a little bit but now he wasn't too sure if that was a good idea.   
  
"Oh, our drive is about an hour or so longer, by the way," Louis said.   
  
"Why?"   
  
"My nan--- she lived in Doncaster so we're going there,"   
  
"Lou, you didn’t tell me," he scolded.   
  
"Does it make a difference?" He asked, raising his eyebrows.   
  
Harry sighed, "I guess not."   
  
"Good," Louis smiled smugly.   
  
Harry couldn't help but smile back, despite being a little annoyed.   
  
The drive there was fairly quiet. Harry suspected that it was because they were both tired and drained from only just finishing at work. Harry knew he sure was.   
  
He even felt his eyes drifting shut a few times but reminded himself he had to stay awake, especially after Louis jerked the car while changing gears.   
  
He mumbled a sheepish apology before getting it right.   
  
Harry started to regret such a long trip with Louis driving but he kept quiet, just started to remain slightly more vigilant after that.   
  
Louis even switched off once but Harry just laughed at him. He informed Harry that he hadn’t driven this car in months so all-in-all, he wasn't bad, actually, if Harry really thought about it.   
  
They only stopped once because Harry had to use the bathroom (he had a bladder the size of a squirrel's).   
  
They reached Louis' nan's house just as dinner time came about. In fact, their timing was so impeccable that they walked in right as Louis' mum placed the pasta bowl on the table where the rest of the Tomlinsons sat, along with a few other people Harry didn’t recognise.   
  
"Oh, Louis," his mother had run over to him and engulfed him into a hug, causing Louis to drop the bag that was in his hand into the floor while he hugged his mother back.   
  
Harry politely gave them some space, standing behind them while they sniffled and grabbed Louis' bag to drape over his shoulder.   
  
After Jay pulled away, she tilted her head to the side, her smile wobbly as she looked at Harry while opening up her arms.   
  
Harry hugged her as best as he could with the bags on him, rubbing her back and mumbling apologies.   
  
He repeated the actions with the rest of the family and shook hands with those he didn't really know.   
  
Louis informed him--- while they sat at the dinner table--- that those unknown people were his uncle, his nan's brother and sister-in-law.   
  
Harry wasn't going to lie, he did feel sort of out of place with them as he was practically a stranger intruding on something so intimate.   
  
He started to fiddle around with his napkin then pick at the loose thread of his jeans while they all exchanged stories about how fast this happened, why it happened, how much they already missed her.   
  
Harry only saw a picture of her for Christs sake. He was beginning to feel like he shouldn't have come, but then he heard Louis speak about his grandmother.   
  
Harry's full attention was on him while he spoke. His eyes were sad but still held a sparkle of joy to them while he spoke about the time they had gone ice-skating together for the first time.   
  
Apparently, even though she was much older than Louis, evidently, she still fell whenever he had a fall on the ice, so as to not hurt his pride. And little ten-year-old Louis was so happy about it.   
  
Harry smiled to himself while he spoke, picturing the whole scene perfectly in his head.   
  
Harry couldn't help but think that now, with Louis being in his 30's, he would be exactly how his nan was described in that story.   
  
If he were to help his kid to ice-skate, for example, and his kid had to take a fall on the ice, he would pretend to fall, too, just so that it wouldn't discourage them too much and they could get back up and try again.   
  
No matter how many times they would fall, Louis would fall with them because that was just the type of person he was.   
  
A round of laughter from the table snapped him out of his thoughts. He shook his head and looked away from Louis only to meet Lottie's suspicious gaze, lingering between the two of them.   
  
Harry pretended to ignore it and looked down at his plate of half-eaten chocolate cake. On any other day, it wouldn't have been on his plate for more than five minutes--- max. Today, however, he really didn't have much of an appetite, even if it did taste delicious.   
  
"H," Louis placed a warm hand on his thigh that caused him to jump slightly. He looked at Louis, blinking.   
  
"Yeah?"   
  
"Do you wanna go sleep now? You didn’t really have a rest in the car, did you?" He asked and his tone was so gentle and soft that Harry wanted to melt into him, but he didn't.   
  
"Is it because of his horrid driving?" Louis' uncle, Ben, asked with a humorous smile.   
  
Harry let out a slightly forced laugh in return, "No-- Well, kind of."   
  
Louis made an affronted noise and pulled his hand away, "betrayed-- I've been betrayed," he spat.   
  
"Oh, hush, Louis," Jay waved him off then turned to Harry, "dear, you do look tired so you can go to sleep now. Besides, we are all probably going to bed anyways. You may have to take the sofa though, is that okay?"   
  
"Of course, Jay. That's more than enough for me. Thank you," Harry said sincerely.  
  
"Good," she smiled back, "we should head to bed now because we have an early morning tomorrow." She ended with a sad, morbid smile.   
  
Harry and Louis helped clear up everything along with some of the others while the rest went to bed or drove home.   
  
"Are you sure I'm not intruding, Lou?" Harry asked as Louis handed him a blanket to lay over the length of the  burgundy floral, sofa.   
  
"H, I asked you to be here, remember?" Louis sat on the armchair next to the sofa Harry was preparing.   
  
"I know but," Harry shrugged, "it feels like a family thing, you know? I just feel bad."   
  
Harry fluffed the pillow once more before sitting himself down on the surprisingly comfortable sofa.   
  
Louis sighed, "if it weren't for you being here with me, I don't know how I would do this--- how I would survive tomorrow."   
  
Harry's heart thumped, "don't say that, Lou. You're so strong "   
  
Louis pursed his lips. It seemed like he was about to say something but stopped himself. Eventually he settled on, "I'm stronger with you here with me--- especially this weekend."   
  
Harry swallowed hard. "Okay," he nodded, "I'm here then."   
  
"I know you are," Louis reached out to cup Harry's hand into his.   
  
Harry wondered if it was normal do this--- if it was healthy to do this, given what they had gone through. He quickly rid himself of any of those thoughts.   
  
It didn't matter.   
  
They were okay.   
  
"I'm sorry you have to sleep in the lounge," Louis grimaced slightly, scanning the average-sized living area.   
  
"It's really not even a big deal, Lou," Harry reassured him, squeezing his hand, "you should get some rest, you look tired."   
  
Louis didn't bother to argue. He nodded and pulled away, then stood up, "don't hesitate to ask for anything, yeah?"   
  
Harry agreed with a small smile, "right back at ya."   
  
Louis started to walk away. Harry got up and stopped him with a hesitant hand on his shoulder.   
  
As Louis turned around to him, Harry hugged him again, "you're going to get through this, Lou," he whispered while they hugged.   
  
Louis nuzzled his nose into Harry's neck, embracing him even tighter, "Thank you, H."   
  
Louis was the one to eventually pull away. He looked up at Harry and Harry felt himself getting goosebumps.  
  
The moonlight that seeped through the window shone perfectly over Louis' face; delicate and beautiful. His eyes were bright and blue, lips puffed and pink and stubble scratchy and spread over his cheeks.   
  
He literally took Harry's breath away.   
  
They lingered.   
  
They shouldn't linger.   
  
Yet, they did anyways.   
  
Louis just stared at Harry, his eyes darting back and forth from his lips to Harry's eyes, almost as if he were pleading.   
  
And Harry... Harry wasn't sure if he was any better.   
  
In front of him stood this beautiful person who had the most amazing heart and kindest soul and the most comforting presence and yet Harry couldn't bear it.   
  
He couldn't because it wasn't right.   
  
This person that stood in front of him deserved the world, that he already knew. Harry couldn't give him that.   
  
They were friends--- great friends, best friends even --- he couldn't fuck it up.   
  
So, with a heavy heart, he cleared his throat and pulled away.   
  
He could almost feel the disappointment radiate from Louis' body and he never wanted to kick himself more.   
  
"You should, um, get some rest," Louis spoke, his voice raspy.   
  
Harry nodded but barely looked him in the eye.   
  
He watched as Louis retreated into the darkness then disappeared, the only thing being heard was the floorboards creaking, the sound becoming more and more distant as the seconds went by until there was nothing left.   
  
Harry sighed, fighting the urge to whine and stomp his foot down, as if throwing a tantrum because he wanted something he couldn't have.   
  
He reached down for his bag and pulled out an old shirt and joggers, changing into them before getting himself comfortable into the duvet on the sofa.   
  
Needless to say, it took him a while to finally fall asleep, but he did anyways, and his mind wasn't even put to rest because all he could remember was Louis' blue eyes, his eager lips and then disappointed look that painted over his face.   
  
It wasn't the first time Harry caused that look and that guilt sat in him, weighed in him, like a load of bricks.   
  
Still, he was doing the right thing.   
  
He was.   
  
***  
  
The morning, as expected was extremely busy. Louis barely had time to sit down, which meant he barely had time to eat either.   
  
All he did have was a cup of tea that Harry made before he was being summoned from one end to the other to prepare for the day.   
  
Jay and the girls were preparing a lunch for after the funeral and Harry offered to help them, not knowing what else to do.   
  
He couldn't just follow Louis around everywhere because he wasn't part of the family, firstly, secondly, he could see Louis needed some space today.   
  
Harry promised he would be there for him and if space was what Louis needed then so be it.   
  
The only thing that was gnawing at his brain was whether he needed the space because of what almost happened last night or because of the day as a whole; maybe he added to his worries and that was the last thing Harry wanted to do.   
  
He had to get a grip.   
  
"Are you okay, darling?"  
  
Harry looked up to see Jay staring at him, her eyes slightly red and nose runny.    
  
He paused his movements, placing the knife down, "I'm fine, Jay."   
  
"Are you sure? You've been huffing and puffing to yourself there for the last few minutes," there was an amused tilt to her lips and Harry chuckled.   
  
Lottie laughed from the other side of the kitchen, "he's been doing that from yesterday," she added.   
  
Harry felt his cheeks heat up. Had he really been doing that from yesterday?   
  
"I'm fine," Harry reassured them, "how are you guys doing?" He directed the question at all of the girls.  
  
"We're managing," Phoebe said, helping Lottie peel some carrots.   
  
The others nodded in agreement.   
  
"It's hard, as all funerals would be, but we're Tomlinsons," she looked at her girls briefly, smiling proudly, "we'll get through this."   
  
Harry grinned, "that's what I said to Louis."   
  
Jay smiled fondly, "Thank you for being there for him--- he really appreciates it--- I can tell."   
  
"It's no problem at all. I'll always be there for him," Harry replied truthfully.   
  
He watched Jay's smile widen, "good. He needs it."   
  
They shared a smile and then went back to work, mostly quiet save for the small talk here and there of course.   
  
They had the funeral at a hall down the road from the house they stayed at--- Louis' nan's house. He discovered now that her name was Fiona.   
  
The picture they had up of her was one of when she was about Harry's age or so; as Jay said so herself.   
  
She was stunning and he could actually see a few of Louis' features from there as well. Like her crinkley-eyed-smile and thin lips.   
  
Harry sat next to Louis, after Louis basically grabbed his hand and sat Harry down on the bench.   
  
They hadn't let go of each others hands since then. He kept a tight grip on Louis' hand even as it shook or as his grip tightened every time someone spoke about her.   
  
His eyes shed a few tears and it took everything in Harry not to reach over and swipe them away with his thumb.   
  
When it was his turn to go up and say a few words, he kept it short and sweet. He teared up during the speech, his voice cracking but then met Harry's eyes and he perked up, finishing up.   
  
Harry didn’t think that was a big deal. He just needed some reassurance and that was what Harry was there for wasn't he? Just for support.   
  
They were at Louis' nan's house after the burial. People were chatting amongst themselves, offering their condolences to Jay and the rest of the Tomlinson children as well as Louis' grandmother's brother.   
  
Harry sat himself down in one corner on a small bench that was surprisingly comfortable. He hadn't eaten much the entire day but he just didn't have much of appetite.   
  
What he was worried about was whether Louis had eaten something or not. He didn't have much time in the morning to eat anything and right now he was being bombarded by family and friends.   
  
He had to make a plan to get Louis some food.   
  
With that in mind, he got up and maneuvered his way past the people and to the table where the food was. He grabbed a paper plate and started to pile a few different items on it, leaving behind the bacon wrapped figs and sweet corn because Louis hated figs and detested corn.   
  
It wasn't much but Harry knew he wouldn't want to eat much right now nor would he have time to.   
  
"Harry," a voice called out.  
  
He turned around to see Lottie, wearing her sleek, black dress and hair tied up with a small smile on her face.   
  
"Hey, how are you doing?"   
  
"I'm fine, I guess," she shrugged, "I thought it would be worse but I think hearing all those stories about Nan kind of made me happy in a weird way."   
  
"That's good," Harry smiled, "that the stories cheered you up, I mean."   
  
"Yeah, it is," she trailed off, biting her lip as if she wanted to say more.   
  
"What?"   
  
She shook her head, smiling again then looked down at the plate in his hand, "those are Louis' favourites," she observed.  
  
"Oh, uh, yeah, I'm just getting him some stuff to eat 'cause he hasn't eaten the whole day," Harry explained.   
  
"That's really kind of you," she hummed. He couldn't pick up the tone of her voice but he wasn't sure that he liked it very much.   
  
"Yeah, well," he shrugged, "it's what friends do."   
  
"Are you guys just friends?" She raised an eyebrow at him.   
  
"Wh--- Yeah, we are. Why?"   
  
"Nothing, it's just," she cut herself off then looked behind briefly before looking back at Harry, "let's sit down outside on the porch swing--- we can talk there where it’s less crowded."   
  
Harry was a bit reluctant but he nodded anyways, following her outside, the plate still in his hand.  
  
She sat down carefully, straightening out her dress and patted the seat next to her on the swing.   
  
Harry sat down, balancing the plate on his lap while the swing swayed gently.   
  
"My brother--- he really likes you, you know?"   
  
Harry frowned, "I know, I like him too--- a lot."   
  
She widened her eyes, "you do?"   
  
"No---no, not really like the way you're thinking--- or, well, maybe--- I don’t know," he sighed and looked down at the array of food items.    
  
"Well, I can say that he's very fond of you," Lottie said, "he has feelings for you," she added.   
  
Harry inhaled sharply, looking up at her. He couldn't find his voice all of a sudden. But, she carried on.   
  
"And --- and I don't want him go get hurt because, well, because he's my brother and I love him," she stared at him with those blue eyes that were all too familiar.   
  
Harry sighed, "I may have feelings for him and I think I know he does for me---"   
  
"So what's stopping you two from being together then?" She cut him off enthusiastically, practically at the edge of her seat.   
  
"It's complicated," he shook his head, "I have a lot of emotional baggage and I don't even know if I could be in a relationship again and your brother--- he deserves better than that."   
  
She frowned at him, "you don't really think he's like that, do you?"   
  
"It doesn't matter," he shook his head, "I know how he is and I'm not going to put him through any of what being with me would entail, besides, we're really good friends and I'm trying not to mess that up."   
  
Lottie pursed her lips, "I see the way you look at him, you know? That's not the way you look at your friend."   
  
Harry gave her a weak smile, "I'm not going to risk anything just to hurt him."   
  
"How do you know you're going to hurt him though?" She probed, almost desperately.   
  
"I have a history of doing so," he mumbled bitterly, "I've lost the people I loved and I'm not willing to do that with Louis."   
  
He heard Lottie gasp softly. Realisation dawned upon him.   
  
"Do you love him?" She asked, a slow smile forming on her face.   
  
Harry took a deep breath; in and out. Just as he opened his mouth to reply, someone else spoke.   
  
"There you are," Louis said.   
  
Lottie and Harry turned to him only to see him with a baby in his arms and god, Harry wished the ground would swallow him whole.   
  
"Ah, auntie Lottie is here, too," Louis spoke, looking at the baby with a big smile on his face, bouncing her slightly as he approached them.   
  
"Hey, little Beckie," Lottie said, getting up from the swing and approaching the smiling baby. Lottie cooed at the little girl while she was in Louis' arms, making her giggle.   
  
"Wanted to introduce her to Harry," Louis said, then looked at Harry with a smile on his face.   
  
Lottie gave Harry a look and nodded, "I'm going to find mum; see if she needs any help."   
  
"All right," Louis kissed her cheek. She waved at Harry before walking away but that look was still in her eyes.   
  
"Hey, Beckie," he spoke in an incredibly soft voice that melted Harry's heart before sitting down next to Harry, "say hello to Harry."   
  
Harry grinned at the baby, "hello," he greeted in a baby voice, extending his arms out to hold her.   
  
She went into his arms easily, smiling up at him, a dimple popping on her right cheek. She was so gorgeous; thin brown hair, big brown eyes and a big dimpled smile.   
  
"Let me carry your plate," Louis offered.   
  
"Oh, it's actually for you. I meant to find you earlier but your sister and I ran into each other and we talked for a little bit," Harry said.   
  
"Oh," Louis seemed slightly taken aback but then smiled softly at Harry, "Thank you."   
  
Harry held the baby in his right arm and handed Louis the plate with his left.   
  
"I figured you barely ate the entire day and you need some food in you, so," Harry shrugged in a nonchalant way.   
  
Louis looked at him with such intensity that Harry felt weak at the knees. He thanked the heavens that he was sitting down.   
  
The baby then made a sound that distracted him. He turned away and focused on her again.   
  
"So, who exactly is this cutie?" He asked, making funny faces at her and hearing her giggle.   
  
"She's m' cousin's daughter," Louis said, his mouth full of food.   
  
"She's really beautiful," Harry said, laughing as she grabbed at the back of his hair and tugged on it.   
  
"She is," Louis smiled fondly and Harry wasn't sure if it was at her or at him --- maybe it was both.   
  
Lottie's words rang through his mind then, _do you love him?_   
  
Harry stared at Louis munching a spring roll, watching the way his mouth rolled when his chewed, the way he held the plate close to his chin when he took a bite, the way he wiped at his mouth with the back of his hand---  
  
"What?" He asked Harry.   
  
"Nothing," Harry said quickly, looking away.   
  
It was nothing.   
  
He couldn't think about that. Louis was just attractive and Harry did have, small, tiny, feelings for him. Only a little bit.   
  
He didn't love him though--- he couldn't love him. It wasn't fair if he did. Louis deserved better, he knew that already so he refused to think about the question any longer.   
  
He didn't. It was nothing.   
  
  
***  
  
Harry twisted on the sofa again for what felt like the tenth time. He just couldn't fall asleep.   
  
With a sigh, he grabbed his phone from underneath his pillow and looked at the time.   
  
2:07   
  
It was two in the damn morning and he had tried going to bed four hours ago.   
  
He threw the duvet off of himself and got up.   
  
He needed some air.   
  
He tiptoed to the patio and pushed the door opened as quietly as possible, shutting it behind him.   
  
He took a seat on the wooden floor, not even worried about the slight dampness that seeped through his sweatpants because he could finally breathe again.   
  
He leaned against the wall of the house, looking up then shutting his eyes, taking a few deep breaths in and out.   
  
Harry knew what kept him up. Two blue eyes and sharp cheekbones and that question that couldn't seem to be shoved down as much as he tried to.   
  
It felt like only a few seconds before he heard the door open again. His head snapped to the doors direction, seeing Louis walk out. He seemed just as startled to see Harry as Harry was to see him.   
  
"H," he greeted, his voice groggy.   
  
He probably woke up from his sleep to come out here.   
  
"Lou, what are you doing here?" Harry straightened up.   
  
He was clad in sweatpants too except he wore a tank top whereas Harry wore a t-shirt.   
  
He looked... _hot_ in a tank top.   
  
"Came out for a smoke," Louis said, sitting himself down next to Harry. He pulled out his lighter and the cigarette from behind his ear.   
  
That was also weirdly attractive. Whatever.   
  
"What are you doing out here? I saw you weren't in the lounge but I thought you were in the bathroom or something," he said, igniting the end of the nicotine filled stick.   
  
"I couldn't sleep so I came out to get some air," Harry explained, watching as he sucked the smoke in.   
  
"I've been a bit restless, too," Louis said, exhaling. "Want some?" He passed the cigarette over to Harry who accepted it gratefully.   
  
He blew out the smoke, too, feeling slightly lighter himself.   
  
"I really needed this, thanks," Harry said, passing it back to Louis.   
  
"You're welcome," he took it back and took another drag.   
  
There was silence between them for a while until Harry spoke again.   
  
"How are you doing?"   
  
Louis sighed, exhaling a round of smoke, "I'm fine. I think the whole day just got me thinking more than anything and I'm kind of glad you're out here--- may have been a sign actually."   
  
Harry knitted his brows together, "what do you mean?"   
  
Louis stubbed the cigarette on the wooden floor and turned to face Harry. Harry did the same. He was slightly concerned but he kept quiet, waiting for Louis to continue.   
  
"My nan--- she was old, I guess so it wasn't unusual that she passed away, you know? But the thing is, she was healthy, like very, very, healthy so it was still a surprise to us."   
  
Harry could see he had more to say so he didn't reply, just waited for Louis to continue.   
  
"And it got me wondering, especially after we heard people talking about her and all the things she did and wanted to do--- there were so many things she also told me that she wanted to do but never got to do."  
  
"Like what?" Harry asked, cocking his head to the side.   
  
"Like," Louis sighed, looking to the side in thought before continuing, "she said that she wanted to make up with her ex-best friend from when she was younger, but she didn't get to do that."   
  
"When did she tell you that?"   
  
"Last year," he replied, swallowing, "my point is, even though I know she was old, it made me just think about how quickly people can be in your life one day and then suddenly, the next day, they're not."   
  
"That's..." _a bit morbid_ , Harry wanted to say, even though he had a point.   
  
"I know, I know," Louis shifted closer to Harry, so much so that Harry could smell his aftershave and the smell of nicotine on him, "it made me realise that I do have to be honest with you."   
  
Harry sucked in a breath, waiting for him to proceed.   
  
"I think--- I think it's obvious that I have feelings for you," Louis said quietly and Harry's heart was beating rapidly, "and I don't want to just pretend I don't anymore."   
  
"Louis," he breathed out, swallowing the led in his throat.   
  
Louis shook his head.   
  
"No, listen, I know what you said and I hear you, I do. You've been through a lot and I know you're reluctant about starting another relationship or ever being in one again for that matter--- I get it. I'm not asking anything of you. All I'm doing right now is being honest with you--- that's it," he looked at Harry with such sincerity and so fiercely, Harry felt himself shaking.   
  
His eyes held hope. Harry wasn't stupid. He recognised that look.   
  
"But, that means that whatever it is I’m feeling for you has to go away--- or I have to try to move on from it somehow because I don't want to carry on having feelings for you when I know we can't be anything more than just friends."   
  
The way he said it broke Harry's heart into pieces.  
  
He must have seen the helpless look on Harry's face because he rushed to take Harry’s hands into his.   
  
"Harry, I'm not--- it's not your fault. I told you, I get it. I'm just telling you this to get some sort of clarity, I suppose, and to allow myself to move on," Louis tried to clarify but it didn't really help.   
  
"Louis, I'm sorry," he managed to croak out, "I would--- I promise you I would but I can't. I can't do relationships anymore, please know it has nothing to do with you at all."   
  
Louis gave him a sad smile, "I think I figured that much out."   
  
"I'm sorry, Lou," Harry said lowly, "I don't want to lead you on and say maybe someday in the future because I don't know."   
  
"It's all right, love," Louis reached up to cup his cheek, his thumb rubbing over his cheekbone, "if only we met all those years ago before you were married the first time 'round."   
  
Harry leaned into his touch and everything felt wrong. He felt like he needed to say something or do something because it didn't sit right in his gut. None of this did.   
  
"I waited a few months, just to see if you changed your mind but I can see where you are emotionally and I'm not going to put any kind of pressure on you or myself so I think the best decision would be for me to move on from this and just for you to be okay, that's all I want."   
  
Harry didn’t even know he was crying until Louis swiped his thumb under his eye, "don't cry, I'm not leaving you or anything, yeah? I'm still your friend--- best friend, I hope." He chuckled weakly.   
  
Harry wanted to shake his head and shout that this _wasn't supposed to happen._ He wasn't supposed to move on yet. He can't. Harry was still figuring things out.   
  
But, that was so selfish of him. He couldn't hold Louis back like that. Who knew how long it would take for Harry to even be emotionally prepared to be with anyone again, even if he did feel so strongly about Louis, the thought of being in a relationship itself was making his heart race and not in a good way.   
  
Louis pulled Harry's head forward and pushed his own so that their foreheads were touching.   
  
He could feel Louis' hot breath fan against his lips. He was too scared to open his eyes so he kept them closed while Louis' other hand went to the other side of his face so that he was cupping his head.   
  
Louis' breaths were shaky, he could feel the way they stuttered.   
  
Their noses touched, the tip of his nose was cold against Harry's but Harry didn't want him to pull away.   
  
Suddenly, warm lips, in contrast to his cold nose, were on his. It was soft and delicate and quick. He pulled away before Harry could even kiss back and he wanted to. God, he really wanted to.   
  
Much too soon, Louis pulled away and got off the wooden floor.   
  
Harry looked up at him, feeling his heart constrict in his chest. Louis had tears in his eyes, that much he could see despite the bad lighting.   
  
"We should get back to bed, H," Louis said, his voice cracking. He extended his hand out to Harry.   
  
Harry stared at his hand, biting his lip and took it, feeling the warmth spread up to his chest. They stood face-to-face, staring at each other.   
  
It felt... wrong.   
  
Louis fish mouthed for a second until he spoke, "I hate what they did to you because now I can't have you."   
  
Harry shook his head, "I--- I'm sorry."   
  
"I know you are," Louis reached over and wiped his cheek again then retreated his hand, "let's go inside, yeah?"   
  
Harry nodded.   
  
Harry wanted nothing more than to run up to Louis, kiss him again (because his lips still tingled) and tell Louis that they could be together--- they would be good together.   
  
But, it was too late now. Louis said he wanted to move on and urged Harry to do the same.   
  
He wasn't going to lead Louis on anymore because he was well aware that he had given him quite a few mixed signals, the drunk night incident coming to mind.   
  
Harry watched Louis walk away, disappearing down the hallway. It felt too much like he lost something he didn't even have in the first place.   
  
Now, it was gone for good, wasn't it?


	9. Nine

It was a quiet afternoon at the café when Harry met Zayn. They were at their usual seats and sipping on their respective cups of coffee. He couldn't believe it had been so long since he had come here. He missed the vintage look and rustic foods mixed with friendly people and squeaky furniture.   
  
Not much about it had changed, aside from a few new faces that came to take orders. Luckily for them, Sam took their order. Sam was the waiter who had worked at the café for about five years now and knew their orders off-by-heart. Ever since Harry spilt a hot cup of coffee on his shirt, Sam had been the one that insisted he take their orders.   
  
"I have a bone to pick with you," Zayn said, placing his cup down on the wooden table again.   
  
Harry frowned, placing his own down, too, "why?"   
  
"Because, it feels like I haven't seen you in ages, H," Zayn shifted forward, his eyes looked larger and as if they held more sparkle to them from where Harry sat.   
  
"I'm sorry," Harry apologised sheepishly, "I've just... been so busy lately."   
  
There was a small smirk on Zayn's face, "busy with Louis you mean?"   
  
"Yes---" Harry sighed, "no, not like that, Zayn."   
  
"Like what then?"   
  
"His grandmother recently passed away--- about a week or so ago."   
  
Zayn's face fell, "Oh, shit. I'm so sorry. How is he doing?"   
  
"He's... managing," Harry said. He hadn't spoken to Louis much since they came back from Donny.   
  
They met just the other day for lunch but it was rushed because Louis was called in for work again.   
  
Basically, they hadn't had a proper conversation since that night.   
  
That night when Louis revealed that he did in fact have feelings for Harry but he didn't want to pressure Harry into anything so he concluded that he had to move on and Harry was left more confused than ever.   
  
"Where's your mind gone?" Zayn asked, studying his face carefully.   
  
"Um, while we were at Donny, Louis, he---" Harry cleared his throat, avoiding Zayn's eyes, "he might have told me how he felt about me."   
  
Zayn's raised an eyebrow at him, "and how does he feel about you, exactly?"   
  
Harry felt like he was being interrogated and he hated it. "He said--- he said he has feelings for me but that he has to move on."   
  
"What? Why?" Zayn frowned.   
  
"Because---- because I may have made it clear to him dozens of times that I'm not ready for a relationship and I don't know if I'll ever be again," Harry confessed, feeling that deep wrench in his gut twisting and twisting.   
  
Zayn seemed surprised, his eyes widening comically.  
  
"What?"   
  
Zayn shook his head, "no it's just---- I mean the lads and I all thought you two were kind of together already and just, I don't know, keeping it low-key for a while or something, you know? I had no idea it was this complicated."   
  
Harry frowned. "You guys thought we were together already?"   
  
Zayn shrugged then nodded shortly, "well, I mean have you seen you guys together? For God's sake, H, he baked you a cake."   
  
Harry blinked, looking down at the old table then back at Zayn again. He wasn't sure what to say.   
  
"Harry, why don't you want to be with him?" Zayn asked softly, his eyes kind but tone cautious.   
  
And that--- it hurt. Because Harry did want to be with him. He would love to be with Louis. But, this wasn’t a perfect world and he couldn't--- he can't.   
  
"I can't, Z," Harry insisted, sounding like he was trying to convince himself more than anything.   
  
" _Why_?" Zayn stressed.   
  
"Because I don't want to get hurt again and I don't want to hurt him either," Harry said, the words came out quicker than he expected and Zayn just stared at him.   
  
"Louis is not Alex, nor is he Connor," Zayn explained in a gentle voice.   
  
"That doesn't mean I won't get hurt or worse; I hurt him," Harry huffed in frustration, "I don't want to lose him and I'm scared that if we even go into a relationship and it ends somehow then we won't be friends."   
  
"But, H, how do you know that?" Zayn asked, a worried pinch in between his brows, "you haven't even given it a try."   
  
"What we have is not something I'm willing to risk, Z," Harry said, "he's my best friend."   
  
"First of all, _hey_ ," Zayn pointed a finger at him, "second, even after he told you how he felt you still don't want to do anything about it?"   
  
"What would you like me to do, Zayn?" Harry snapped.   
  
"I want you to be happy," he replied without missing a beat. He wasn't even backing down from Harry's deadly gaze.   
  
Not that Harry expected him to in the first place--- it was Zayn after all. He had seen Harry at his worst moments and at his best.   
  
"I am happy."   
  
Zayn gave him an unimpressed raised eyebrow look, "Harry, all I'm saying is, you have feelings for him, he has them for you--- just be honest with him and get together already."   
  
"It's complicated," Harry repeated, slightly whiny.   
  
"No, it's really not. You're just complicating things as usual," Zayn huffed. Before Harry could reply (and defend himself, thank you very much, because he was not complicating things 'as usual'), Zayn called on their waiter.  
  
Once the waiter left with Zayn's order for a slice of chocolate cake, Zayn looked at him again, "the reason why I asked you to meet me here today is because I kind of have some news..."   
  
"You're pregnant?" Harry gasped dramatically.   
  
"Shut up," Zayn rolled his eyes, "I'm not pregnant---"   
  
"Not yet," Harry interrupted with a smirk.   
  
"As I was saying, I'm not pregnant, but I've just gotten a promotion at work!" Zayn clapped his hands together excitedly.   
  
"Zayn, that's awesome," Harry smiled, genuinely happy for his best friend.   
  
"Yeah, I wanted to tell you and Li--- and of course my mum--- before anyone else. Li said he wants to throw a small sort of get together thing for me next weekend once he's back from his parent's place."   
  
Zayn was blushing and Harry loved it because Zayn hardly blushed.   
  
"Nothing too fancy, I hope," Harry commented, choosing not to tease him about his flustered state right now.   
  
"Just drinks at the pub," Zayn said, "I'll ask Niall to come and you'll ask Louis, I hope."   
  
"Yeah, I will," Harry agreed easily, "I can't believe you got promoted, Z. After years of waiting," Harry smiled, shaking his head.   
  
"It's surreal and I'm so grateful right now. I just wanted to tell you first because, well, because I miss you, you know?" Zayn said, pouting.   
  
"I know, I miss you too," Harry sighed, "I promise I'm not abandoning you."   
  
"Already have me replaced for best friend there," Zayn hummed, seemingly not convinced yet still playful.   
  
With Zayn, sometimes Harry didn't know if he was being serious or not. One minute he would be all playful and goofy, joking around with you, and the next he would get offended about something someone said even it was all but ten minutes ago.   
  
He was quirky like that.   
  
"I can have more than one best friend, Zayn."   
  
"No, I refuse to allow that," Zayn stood his ground, "it's me or no one else."   
  
Harry smiled, "you're giving me an ultimatum?"   
  
"I am," he affirmed with a confident nod.   
  
"Fine, Zayn, you're my best friend," Harry sighed, rolling his eyes fondly.   
  
Zayn had a smug smile on his face when he said, "so I wonder what category Louis'll fit into now that the best friend spot has been taken."   
  
Harry passed him a glare from across the table but Zayn didn't seem bothered, still smiling smugly and sipping his drink, looking at Harry with those eyes of his. The 'you-know-what-to-do' ones.   
  
Harry chose to ignore him and changed the subject after that. They spoke about Zayn's work, then Harry's work and finally about Liam and how Liam's sister just gave birth so they had both become uncles recently.   
  
Zayn was ecstatic and he told Harry with a huge grin on his face about how he and Liam had a conversation about having a family of their own soon.   
  
Harry was happy for his friends, he was. He just yearned for that, too.   
  
It was scary because now, in his daydreams where he got to have that, the nameless, unknown figure beside him turned into Louis somewhere along the way and he didn't know when.   
  
He would be damned if he ever admitted that out loud.  
  
****  
  
**May 2018**   
  
Liam came back on a Thursday night and, despite his running tiredness from his long trip, he insisted that they celebrate Zayn's promotion on Friday night.   
  
Everybody agreed to meet, Niall included, along with a few of Zayn's work colleagues.   
  
Harry texted Louis immediately after his and Zayn's coffee date, asking if he would be able to come, to which Louis easily agreed  and said he would pass his congratulations on to Zayn as soon as possible (which turned out to be a few minutes after they had texted about it).   
  
Things were... they were weird between them. Maybe it was just Harry feeling that way because of everything that had happened but he was sure he could feel it on Louis' part, too.   
  
Louis felt--- he felt kind of distant as of lately. Again, maybe this was partially Harry's fault, too, as he also tried to keep somewhat of a distance between them at first.   
  
In his defense, it was because of how he felt and he didn't want to explode on Louis about anything, so he kept to himself, pretty much for the first week after they had come back.   
  
But, it was then that he noticed that Louis had basically done the same thing and was continuing to do the same thing even weeks later.   
  
He didn't message Harry as much as he usually would have--- even on his busiest days--- and he also hadn't seen Harry as much and Harry was hating it.  
  
He missed him a lot.   
  
It wasn't as if Louis was being cold towards him or anything like that--- it was just distant. Even when they hung out, conversations were a bit stoic and he found that he wasn't laughing as much and neither was Louis.   
  
It was like they didn't know how to exist around one another without crunching on a stray piece of eggshell and cracking the silence between them when they're not supposed to.   
  
They spoke to each and their conversations would just start to flow into the natural swing of things and somehow, somewhere along the way, a train would hit them both and, almost as if it were same time, they would both pull away from each other and things would start to feel tense and awkward.   
  
But, it was Harry and Louis. They could bounce back from this because they had done so before. This was just a small bump on the road for them.

  
Harry sometimes caught himself remembering the way it felt when Louis kissed him, his soft, damp lips during the chilly night that disappeared as quickly as it came.   
  
If he could turn back time to that night, maybe he would s---   
  
Harry shook his head. It was no use dwelling on what could have been, he knew that.   
  
That was why he was hoping that during the midst of them celebrating with Zayn, maybe it would be a little easier for them to speak again and they could clear the air between them --- or try to at the very least.   
  
And Harry felt like Louis had taken the first step so many times before this; initiating their friendship, confessing about his feelings--- it was Harry's turn now to grow a pair.   
  
"Do you think Zayn will like this?" Liam asked, snapping him out of his thoughts.   
  
Harry shifted closer to Liam, scanning the items on the menu from behind his shoulder. His eyes landed on the dish Liam was pointing at.   
  
"What the hell is a rainbow avocado?" Harry asked, frowning.   
  
"Well, read it, twat," Liam moved away so Harry could read the description.   
  
Harry snorted, "Liam, this sounds ridiculous. Why don't you just get the stuff that Zayn likes?"   
  
"Because I want us to try something new!" Liam huffed, throwing his hands up in frustration, "I feel like we're becoming an old boring couple."   
  
He sat down on a bar stool, staring mindlessly at the laminated menu and horrible font.   
  
Comic sans. Honestly, who still used comic sans? That was a crime. Why did they still come to this pub again?   
  
"What's wrong with being an old, boring couple?"   
  
Harry sat down next to Liam, watching him carefully.   
  
Liam gave him a look of disbelief, "we're old and boring."   
  
"But that's the dream," Harry insisted, "everyone wants to be at that stage of their relationship where they know their partner that well and they can be so comfortable with each other--- I guess it doesn't really mean you're boring, per sé."   
  
"You have weird dreams," Liam mumbled, unconvinced, "we need to make a decision because this whole thing starts in a few hours time and you need to get back to work."   
  
Liam got off the stool and scanned the menu again.   
  
"Onion rings," Harry said.   
  
"Of course," Liam scoffed.   
  
It took him a few more minutes to get what they needed ordered for later tonight and Liam asked Harry to have a beer with him before they had to go their separate ways.   
  
Harry agreed but decided to go for alcohol-free beer as he was going back to work after all.   
  
"I'm surprised you didn’t tell Louis to meet us here, what with his flat being right above us and all," Liam said, sipping his beer delicately.   
  
Harry shrugged and looked down at the dark wood of the counter, "he's at work so I doubt he would be able to make it."   
  
"That boy is whipped--- he would come right this second if you asked him to, I'll bet money on that," Liam said, unknowing of what actually went down with them, of course.   
  
Upon Harry's silence, he turned to look at his friend, a worried look on his face, "you okay?"   
  
Harry shook his head, "I think he's avoiding me and he's been acting really strange with me and it's because I fucked it all up. Why do I fuck everything up, Li?" Harry looked up at his friend, his vision blurry.   
  
Liam eyes widened. Placing his beer down, he turned to Harry and rubbed his back soothingly, "Harry, what do you mean? You didn’t fuck anything up."   
  
"No, you don't get it," Harry sighed, wiping at his eyes stubbornly, "he said he had feelings for me and I just--- I just let him go because I'm an idiot and now I've ruined everything."   
  
"He what?" Liam's hand paused over Harry's back.   
  
"He said so at his nan's house--- when we drove down for the funeral. He said he had to move on because he knew what my view on relationships was and that I didn't want to be in one and I just--- I don’t know what to do now because things between us feel so weird, Li," Harry said, keeping as short as he could because he was getting tired of telling the story of his own stupidity and he was sure Zayn would fill Liam in on the rest whenever he could.   
  
"Whe--- what did you say about relationships, exactly?" Liam asked, tone careful.   
  
"I said that I'm not ready for one and that I don't know if I ever will be again and that's--- it hasn't changed because I don't want one," Harry enunciated, sounding more and more like he was convincing himself than anything, "and he--- he wants something serious--- someone to settle down with and we just-- we both want different things."   
  
Liam was silent for a while, his hand back on his lap, before he spoke again in a quiet voice, "do you really, H? Want different things, I mean."   
  
Harry opened his mouth to reply but Liam quickly continued with his thoughts.   
  
"I mean--- Harry, I know you've been hurt, yeah? I do. But," Liam shrugged, "you've always been someone that loves being in a relationship; you love having someone to wake up to, to take care of, and vice versa, to be all domestic with--- all that jazz--- I mean, did you just listen to what you said to me only minutes ago?"   
  
_That's the dream_ echoed in his mind.   
  
"Liam, I had that," Harry argued weakly, his voice cracking, "fucking twice and it went to shit."   
  
"Just because it didn't work out the first time or even the second doesn't mean it won't work out this time. Your past doesn't dictate what your future will look like, no matter what people say, you know I don’t believe in that."   
  
Harry looked at his friend's indignant and determined gaze and exhaled heavily, "it doesn’t matter--- he doesn't deserve someone so damaged and broken either and besides, he said he wanted to move on alr---"   
  
"Christ, H, do you hear yourself?" Liam threw his hands up, tone incredulous, "you're not some vase or delicate glass that's broken and can't be fixed--- you're a human being and, above that, you're Harry--- you don't say shit like that and you sure as hell don't give up."   
  
Harry remained quiet. He looked down at the beer on the counter, watching the small droplets of condensation fall down the sides.   
  
"Don't you remember what you said to me when I told you I liked Zayn and wanted to ask him out?"   
  
A smile made its way across Harry's face at the memory that came to mind, "yes," he said quietly.   
  
Still, Liam found the need to remind him, "I was so damn scared because I was convinced that Zayn wouldn't want someone like me and that he was way out of my league but you held me by my shoulders and told me to get my head out of my ass, grow a pair, and just ask him out."   
  
Harry snorted, sniffling, "that's different though because I knew how Zayn felt about you as well and I---"   
  
He stopped when he realised that he, in fact, also knew about the way Louis felt towards him.   
  
But. But...   
  
"I know what Louis said but that was, like, a month ago, Li. He already told me he wants to move on. I can't just waltz back into his life, confuse him again only to be an indecisive mess the next day and change my mind about everything," he said, stubborn in his thoughts.   
  
Liam let out an exasperated sigh, throwing his head back before looking at Harry again, "Harry, you're an idiot."   
  
Harry deflated at that.   
  
"Thanks, Liam," he said dryly, bringing the horribly warm beer up to his lips and taking a sip.   
  
"Louis is so gone for you, Harry. I mean, come on," he whined, "have you seen the way he looks at you?"   
  
"Looked," Harry amended bitterly, "he barely looks at me nowadays."   
  
"Jesus, it's been a month, Harry, not a year. You can still fix whatever this is between you two," Liam said enthusiastically, sitting up straighter, his tone was slightly desperate.   
  
"I plan to do that tonight," Harry agreed, "not in the way you're thinking," he added after seeing Liam's beaming smile.   
  
"Then what?"   
  
"I want to fix our friendship," Harry explained.   
  
Liam groaned, "God, Harry, you realise he could be waiting for you, right?"   
  
"Why would he say that he wants to move on if he's just going to wait for me? It wouldn't make sense," Harry frowned.   
  
"I don't know. People say shit they don't mean sometimes. Maybe he wants to move on but part of him is hoping you'll pull your head out of your ass and come to your senses," Liam raised his eyebrow at him.   
  
Stubbornly, Harry shook his head, "I'm not giving up on our friendship--- he's my best friend. If we did get into a relationship and we didn’t work out, I wouldn't even be his friend anymore.  I don't know how I'd cope with that. Too much is at risk," Harry said, again seemingly convincing himself more than anything.   
  
Liam let out a resigned sigh. Harry wasn't sure whether he should feel grateful or not.   
  
"You'll always regret it if you don't take the risk, H," he encouraged him with a gentle voice, "you know how you feel in your heart, and I know it's scary, but that's the same bloody thing keeping you alive, isn't it? So listen to it."   
  
"I should get going," Harry said after a pregnant pause, "I have to get back to work."   
  
It wasn't a lie. He would need to be back at work in a few minutes so he had to leave anyways. Convenient timing.   
  
Liam pursed his lips into a small, slightly forced smile yet still hugged Harry tightly anyways, telling him that he would see him later tonight.   
  
Harry couldn't stop thinking about their conversation for the rest of his working hours. It was distracting him in the worst way possible. His mind kept bouncing back to:   
  
_Get your head out of your ass._ _  
_ _  
_ _You'll always regret it if you don't take the risk._   
  
That was the very same thing that got him into his mess that he sat in right now; _you'll regret it if you don't take the risk_ , they said.   
  
The very same thing Liam and Zayn had said to him when he asked them if he should go out with Alex or not, whether he should go through with marrying Alex or not, etcetera, etcetera.   
  
And look where that advice brought him now.   
  
Harry and Louis--- it was one thing he couldn't mess up. Even if it meant that he would have to live with the regret of not actually being romantically involved with Louis, then so be it.   
  
Their friendship was way more important, he thought to himself, staring at Louis' contact name on his phone, a little devil emoji beside it and a two blue ticks next to his last message that he sent to Louis two days ago, asking him a question he still hadn't gotten a reply to.   
  
_I'm seeing you for Zayn's celebration on Friday. Can we talk?_ _  
_   
Harry swallowed the watermelon size lump in his throat and locked his phone, pushing it away and trying to concentrate on his work again. He would see Louis today and speaking to him face-to-face was what mattered more than a silly WhatsApp message anyway.   
  
Everything would be fine. They would be fine.   
  
For some reason, a dark bubble brewed at the pit of his stomach that seemed to argue otherwise.   
  
***   
  
The pub, for a Friday night, was not as lively and packed as Harry thought it would be. Aside from their booth, the rest of the pub seemed quite dead to be honest.   
  
There were about seven other people around them; two men at the bar counter, chatting to each other, three girls at a corner booth, each with a glass of wine in front of them and the blonde in the middle with a red nose and blotchy cheeks, and a boy and a girl that barely seemed old enough to be in here at a high table in front of them, giggling to each other.   
  
Really, if it wasn't for the music playing in the background, this pub would have felt... awkward.   
  
Or maybe it was just how Harry was feeling. Maybe he was spreading his aura. That happened, right? It was totally a thing.   
  
He was worried though because he didn't even have a reason to feel so awkward--- at least, not yet anyways. Louis hadn't even arrived.   
  
He was eleven minutes late, to be exact. Not that Harry was counting--- he just happened to take notice of the time, that was all.   
  
A loud thud in front of him startled him out of his thoughts.   
  
"Lager," was all Liam said before sitting down opposite him and jumping straight into the discussion Zayn was having with one of his co-workers, Jamie.   
  
Harry felt bad. Zayn's other colleague, Will, sat next to him, quiet as a mouse while listening to their convo and Harry was lost in his own world. He wasn't like this. He was a social, well-mannered person who liked meeting new people and enjoyed a little bit of debating or banter.   
  
He should be speaking to them too.   
  
But...   
  
"Hey, is Louis coming?" Zayn asked suddenly snapping him out of his thoughts.   
  
"He said he was earlier today," Niall said, seated at the end of the table, the only person sitting on a chair.   
  
When did Niall get here?   
  
"He just said he was going to be a little later than he thought because they were going a little more out of town for dinner," Niall added.   
  
Harry frowned, "they?"   
  
His heart thumped loudly behind his chest.   
  
Niall knitted his brows together, confused, "yeah, him and Rio. Didn't he tell you?"   
  
Harry swallowed, shaking his head, "no, he didn't."   
  
"Who's Rio?" Liam asked, passing a glance at Harry.   
  
"Wait, do you guys not know anything? Jeez, Tommo said he spoke to you a few days ago so I assumed you at least knew," Niall said, looking at Harry.   
  
"I didn't," Harry said quietly.   
  
He didn't want to know who this Rio guy was. He had a pretty good idea anyway.   
  
"He's been seeing him for a little while--- not too long now so maybe he just wanted to keep it private. Still, thought he would'a said something," Niall shrugged, oblivious to the tension building up and taking a sip of his drink.   
  
Harry glanced up at Liam, hoping his eyes said 'I told you so' and then at Zayn who only gave him a sad smile.   
  
"I'll message him now to see where he is?" Niall suggested, already pulling out his phone.   
  
"You don't have to do th---"   
  
"It's fine," Niall waved Zayn off, typing away on his phone.   
  
Harry gnawed at his bottom lip, feeling the soft layer of skin peel off due to how chapped they already were. He was trying to control his breathing because it did become hard to at some point.   
  
"He said he's almost here," Niall said, placing his phone down, "I say, for now, we drink," he tipped his beer up and chugged down the rest.   
  
Harry said amen to that in his head and chugged down all of his in one go, despite it practically being full.   
  
Everyone at the table gave him looks, Liam and Zayn were one of worry, Niall and the other two were shocked, yet enthusiastic.   
  
"That's the spirit, Harry," Niall cheered, patting his back.   
  
Harry gave him a weak smile. It was odd; he thought Niall would have, well, would have known how his best friend felt or at least seen the tension between them that everyone else supposedly saw.   
  
Or maybe he did and Louis told him what happened and how much of a horrible person Harry was and Niall was just being a supportive best friend because honestly, that was what Niall was.   
  
Harry sighed. He got up to get another round of drinks for the table. Tonight was going worse than anticipated already.   
  
It wasn't until another ten minutes later that Louis actually walked in and with a man behind him; around the same height as Louis but with broader shoulders and lighter hair that matched with his beady, brown eyes and tanned skin.   
  
They were walking up to the booth, the man's hand resting over Louis' shoulder. Louis' eyes were cast downwards as he approached them. It wasn't until they actually reached the table that he looked up at them, willfully ignoring Harry's eyes, that much was obvious, considering the sharp, staggering gaze he was passing Louis and this new... friend. (Whose hand was still over Louis' shoulder. Whatever.)   
  
"You finally made it," Niall cheered, moving his chair a bit to look up at them, "and Rio is here, too," he added, looking at the beady-eyed man, his tone less than enthusiastic.   
  
"'Ello, lads. I see everyone is drunk already," he smirked, scanning their faces one-by-one and, again, not-so-subtly avoiding Harry.   
  
"You took too long. Where were you?" Zayn whined.   
  
And yes, Zayn was on his way to becoming relatively drunk. He was always whiny when he got drunk.   
  
But, who was Harry to say anything, really, because he was well on his way to becoming drunk, too.   
  
"Sorry, just got caught up, um," he moved away from this Rio person, his hand falling off of Louis' shoulder, "this is Rio, by the way."   
  
The man raised a hand in greeting, a friendly smile on his face, "hello, nice to meet you guys."   
  
Harry wanted to scoff, mock the way he spoke. _Nice to meet you guys,_ he said, in a voice that was so overly friendly, it was bordering fake.   
  
"Nice to meet you too, Rio," Liam smiled politely, followed by a round of greetings from everyone else while Harry remained petulantly quiet, his gaze fixed on the table.   
  
"I just dropped by to say hi and meet Louis' friends," Rio explained, "I should get going, though."   
  
"Nice of you to come and greet us," Zayn smiled, ever so courteous that one.   
  
"Right, hope to see you all soon," he nodded in lieu of a goodbye before kissing Louis' cheek, saying something quietly to him and walking out, waving as he approached the door.   
  
And no. No, he was not allowed to kiss Louis' cheek. What the fuck?   
  
Louis was red by the time he left and Harry refused to believe it was because he was blushing out of being anything but embarrassed.   
  
"Er, sorry about that, lads," Louis apologised somewhat sheepishly, pulling a stray chair to sit next between Niall and Liam.   
  
Right. Louis could have sat between Niall and him but he didn't. Whatever.   
  
"It's cool, man. Did you have fun?" Zayn asked, again, ever so polite and courteous.   
  
"Yeah, yeah, not too bad," Louis answered, pursing his lips into a smile.   
  
"Quite a looker, he is. How long have you been with him?" Will, who was quiet this whole time, decided to speak up, "I'm Will, by the way."   
  
Louis extended his hand to shake Will's, "Louis," he greeted back. "Just two dates so far, nothing serious," he said, pulling his hand back.   
  
"That's great, man," Liam patted his back, "well, now that you're here, let's officially do a toast."   
  
"You guys waited for me to do this?" He asked, his eyes incredibly soft and filled with guilt. Good.   
  
"Yeah, it's no worries--- we all had to be here," Zayn waved him off.   
  
"Right then," Niall took the liberty of raising his glass to do the toast, "to Zayn," he said, tipping it forward before gulping down a sip.   
  
"Eloquent," Louis snorted, taking his own sip.     
  
"Simple and sweet, I suppose," Zayn shrugged, shaking his head fondly and drinking his beer.   
  
Harry smiled weakly at Zayn, taking a big sip of his own, finishing it off.   
  
"I'm going for a refill," Harry announced, getting up, "anyone else need a refill?"   
  
Everyone else shook their heads and Harry noticed that Louis was finally looking at him --- staring at him, almost in a scrutinizing manner.   
  
"Go easy, yeah?" Liam warned him in a gentle yet firm tone. Instantly, Harry felt a mount of guilt sink to his stomach. He nodded softly--- genuinely--- at his friend before heading to the bar counter.   
  
He met with the bartender, David (he was nice on the eyes, no harm in noticing that now), asking him for another lager and waiting on a lone stool for his drink to be filled.   
  
A hand on his shoulder made him turn around, seeking the face to the hand, only to be met with Louis. His heart sped up almost instantaneously.   
  
"Hey," Louis breathed out, grabbing a stool and sitting next to Harry.   
  
Harry's drink was placed in front of him right at that moment and he took it as a cue to leave.   
  
He picked up his drink and made a move to get up but Louis' hand on his thigh stopped him quickly. "We need to talk, H. Just give me a minute, please?"   
  
There was so much of warmth and familiarity mixed with a sense of comfort in Louis' eyes that Harry couldn't say no even if he wanted to.   
  
He placed his drink down, sitting again and admitting defeat while Louis ordered a drink of his own.   
  
"I asked if anyone needed anything. You could have asked for a drink, you know?" Harry decided to open with, keeping his tone monotonous.   
  
Louis sighed, "needed to talk to you."   
  
"All of a sudden?" Harry laughed humourlessly.   
  
"All right, I suppose I deserve that," Louis huffed, "I am sorry for, well, avoiding you for a while now."   
  
"Why, Lou?" Harry looked at him, watching Louis' eyes drop to the floor, almost ashamed.   
  
"I needed my space. I should have told you--- I know--- I just didn't want to--- I don’t know, I needed time away and I realise that ignoring you wasn't the best thing to do and I get that and I'm very sorry, I didn't mean to," Louis said, biting his bottom lip anxiously.   
  
"I would have given it to you if you had just told me, you know?" Harry sighed through his nostrils, his anger melting away but hurt still prominent.   
  
"I know, I'm sorry, H, I am," Louis' hand twitched in his lap almost as if he wanted to move it but refrained from doing so.   
  
Harry knew what Louis wanted to do and the fact that he stopped himself from grabbing Harry's hand to hold it---   
  
"So, Rio, huh?" Harry decided to appeal to his masochist side a little bit more than he usually does because why not, apparently.   
  
Louis scratched the back of his neck, giving him a tight smile, "nothing serious, really--- only two dates, like I said."   
  
"You brought him over to meet your friends," Harry deadpanned.   
  
"He insisted," Louis rolled his eyes, "I honestly thought it was too fast but he begged to differ."   
  
"You didn’t tell me about him either," Harry said quietly, avoiding Louis' blue, blue eyes.   
  
What the hell was with his eyes? Holy fuck.   
  
"I--- Yeah, didn't know if it was even going anywhere to be honest," Louis said.   
  
"And now?" Harry asked, ignoring that ache in his chest, afraid of the answer even though he wouldn't admit it out loud.   
  
"Don't know," Louis confessed, "but, I promised you that we'll be friends didn't I? And you are one of my best friends so I would love if you could just, I don't know, meet him for a bit?"   
  
And this--- this was some sort of sick joke, wasn't it? He wanted Harry to meet this guy and act all happy and delighted for them?   
  
Well, that was the least he could do, since, as far as Louis knew, Harry didn't want anything with Louis right? So why should Harry care when he knew this was coming anyways?   
  
"When?" He asked, gulping.   
  
Louis smiled, small and happy, "Sunday good for you? We can watch the game."   
  
Harry nodded, although every other molecule and fibre of his body fought against it. "Just give me a time," he said.   
  
Louis stood up and placed a firm hand on Harry's shoulder, causing Harry to look at him. And, he was so close. Harry could almost taste him again. But, he couldn't.   
  
"I know this is all weird but--- but you have to understand that I have to do this, okay?"   
  
Harry frowned. He had to? Had to do what, exactly?   
  
"Okay," he managed to croak out instead. Louis smiled at him and it was so soft and fond that Harry wanted to melt.   
  
He pulled Harry in for a hug, squeezing him tightly. Harry hugged back without question because they haven't hugged in so long.   
  
Harry missed his smell, his warmth, his comfort, the way Harry always just felt so safe whenever he was in Louis’ arms.   
  
Louis pulled away all too soon. "Missed you, love," he said, grinning at Harry before taking his drink and beckoning Harry to follow him back to the table.   
  
Harry followed because of course he did. It was Louis. He would follow Louis anywhere, Louis wouldn't even have to ask.   
  
It was then that it hit him, maybe Liam was right. Harry was an idiot.


	10. Ten

On Sunday afternoon, Harry stood outside of Louis' place, with his head against the wood of the door and a beer pack in his hand, he braced himself for what was about to come.   
  
Maybe it was a touch dramatic but his feelings were still valid.   
  
He leaned away and pressed the doorbell, waiting for the door to open. The few seconds Louis took to answer it felt like an eternity--- an agonising eternity.   
  
When he did, Harry was greeted with kind eyes and a warm smile and just Louis. Louis with his wonderful smile and blue eyes and damn hoodies and stupid fucking perfect face. Fuck.   
  
"Hi," he greeted Harry, shifting to the side to let him in.   
  
"Hey," Harry murmured back and stepped in, immediately catching Rio sitting on the couch, a tight-lipped smile on his face.   
  
"Harry, I'm guessing," he got up, rounding the couch to stand in front of Harry.   
  
"Yeah, hey," Harry accepted his handshake (with great reluctance).   
  
"Come put these in the fridge, love," Louis said, appearing next to him and resting a gentle hand on the small of his back.   
  
Harry saw Rio's gaze linger and smile falter. Harry almost smirked before he remembered that no, he couldn't and that it would be rude.   
  
Instead, he smiled at Louis and they walked to the kitchen. Harry thanked his lucky stars that Rio didn't follow behind them.   
  
"Thank you for coming," Louis said just as Harry closed the fridge door, "I really am sorry about what happened and I appreciate this."   
  
Harry smiled softly at Louis, "I'm sorry, too."   
  
"Let's just... not do it again? I really did miss you," Louis admitted, his hands stuffed into his hoodie pockets and eyes sincere.   
  
"I missed you, too," Harry said truthfully. They stared at each other for a moment, Louis' eyes didn't leave his, not even to blink.   
  
For a brief moment, Harry glanced down at Louis' lips. He could feel them press against his own gently, disappearing much too quickly. He still remembered what Louis tasted like from that first night all those months ago. How could he forget?   
  
Mustard and nicotine, oddly warm and engulfing Harry in a sense of security that he hadn't even realised at that time. Harry wondered whether he made Louis feel safe too.   
  
"Let’s go watch the game," Louis said, his voice raspy. He turned around swiftly and walked back to the living room, taking a seat next to Rio but still keeping a respectable amount of distance between them.   
  
Which--- fine, cool.   
  
Harry sat at his usual seat, trying to get as comfortable as he normally felt when he was here but nothing seemed to be working.   
  
"So, Louis tells me you work as a nurse at the hospital close by," Rio started, a smile on his face (fake as ever if you asked Harry).   
  
Harry smiled back, a bit plastic as well but genuinely trying, "I do, yeah. Where, uh, where do you work?"   
  
"I work for the same magazine company Louis works for, of course," Rio chuckled, "I'm the editor for the mag."   
  
For the mag. Harry almost scoffed.   
  
"Oh, right. That's great," Harry said, feeling crickets start to chirp in the background right about now.   
  
"Harry here will probably kick your ass in FIFA," Louis chimed in. There was a slight panic on his face, almost as if he was scared that one of them would explode at any second now.   
  
"Not much of a FIFA fan," Rio wrinkled his nose almost in distaste and concentrated on the game again. The football game, mind you.   
  
"Most of the time, the people who don't like it just aren't good at it," Harry said, almost slapping a hand over his mouth afterwards.   
  
He wasn't being cheeky like he normally would have, it sounded kind of... cold. Even Louis could see that, judging by the way his eyes widened.   
  
"Or maybe they just don’t like it," Rio said, narrowing his eyes at Harry in an almost challenging manner.   
  
Harry clenched his jaw, matching his gaze, "Louis loves it, though."   
  
"I know," Rio said, raising an eyebrow at Louis, the 'what's up with him' one.   
  
Louis shook his head, passing a glare towards Harry, "let's just watch the game."   
  
"I'm fine with that," Rio said, leaning back and dropping an arm around the back of the couch where Louis was sitting.   
  
No... Louis wouldn't like that.   
  
And, true to what Harry thought, Louis didn't seem to like it, yet he made no move in pushing his arm away from his shoulders. The disapproval was clear in his grimace, though.   
  
So it was confusing to say the least.   
  
Harry shrugged it off, trying to keep his mind focused on the game in front of him but his eyes kept drifting towards Louis and Rio.   
  
And... it looked awkward between them.   
  
It looked like when two people were forced to hang out because their parents said so. Nothing about them seemed natural nor did anything scream chemistry.   
  
Harry's anger almost dissipated, that was, until Rio leaned down and placed a small but suggestive kiss right at the base of Louis' throat and Harry could have sworn he saw Rio smirking, watching Harry from the corner of his eye.   
  
Harry swallowed, looking away then decidedly jumping off the couch, "I'm going to get the beers," he announced, not even sparing them another glance before heading into the kitchen.   
  
He grabbed two from the fridge, shutting the door and taking a few seconds to compose himself before walking out to meet them again.   
  
When he handed Louis a beer, he realised then that he had only grabbed two instead of three.   
  
That--- it wasn't something he did on purpose. He was just so used to just him and Louis hanging out, grabbing only two bottle was like a muscle reflex or muscle memory whatever the fuck people call it.   
  
"Harry, seriously?" Louis asked, his tone tired as he looked up at Harry.   
  
"I--- Louis, I swear I didn't do it on purpose--- here," Harry handed Rio his own beer only for his hand to slip, the bottle tumbling onto Rio's lap and beer spilling all over his clothes.   
  
Rio jumped up, his face red with anger, "are you fucking kidding me? What the fuck is your problem, man?"   
  
Harry frowned, "I have no problem, man. It was mistake, Jesus," he scoffed.   
  
"Harry, fuck," Louis shook his head, sighing, "let me get you a towel."   
  
Louis got off the couch, setting his bottle down on the coffee table and making a move to his room when Rio grabbed his upper arm, stopping him in his tracks.   
  
"Louis, it's fine," Rio grimaced down at his clothes then glared at Harry, "it’s clear I'm not wanted here so I'm just going to go home."   
  
Louis felt guilty, Harry could see it in his eyes. "Are you sure? It's really no big deal to l---"   
  
"It's fine," Rio cut him off with a weak smile, "I'll see you soon, yeah?"   
  
Louis nodded. Rio made sure Harry was watching when he leaned forward to place a chaste--- still painful--- kiss on Louis' lips.   
  
Louis' lips. The same ones that were on Harry's merely a month ago. Whatever.   
  
Harry looked away from them while Rio gathered his belongings to leave. He didn't even bother saying goodbye to Harry nor did Harry to him.   
  
When the front door shut, Louis exploded. "Harry, what the fuck was that?"   
  
Harry turned to him, "Louis, I didn't fucking drop beer on him on purpose."   
  
"Right," Louis scoffed, "you also happened to leave him out when you were getting them and you had to make that snarky comment about FIFA then?"   
  
Harry bit his tongue.   
  
"Exactly," Louis said, shaking his head again, "I cannot believe you--- I asked you to come here today as my friend and you act like---"   
  
"You don't even like him," Harry interrupted, his anger spiking.   
  
"What?"   
  
"You don't even like him --- you're using him to get over me and you know it," Harry spat out before he could stop himself and then he wanted to kick himself.   
  
Fuck, fuck, fuck.   
  
And Louis was hurt. He could see that from the way his eyes started to shine and nostrils started to flare. He was angry and he was hurt.   
  
"Get out," Louis croaked. Harry opened his mouth to speak but Louis spoke over him, his voice booming when he repeated, "get out!"   
  
Harry winced at his tone. Never, in these past months that he had gotten to know Louis, had he seen him this furious and this hurt before and to know that Harry was the cause of it--- it made him want slap himself.   
  
"Louis, I'm really sorry," Harry said before he could stop himself but Louis was moving forward and Harry instinctively started to step backwards.   
  
"Just go, fuck," Louis hissed, "Harry, leave." His demeanour broke and Harry could see how hurt he was now --- properly.   
  
He decided to listen and just leave because him being here would not do any one of them any good right now.   
  
Harry took whatever was left of his dignity and walked out, flinching when the door slammed shut behind him.   
  
He could not fucking believe he said that. Why the fuck would he say that? How could he say that to him? The look on his face would haunt Harry for the rest of his life.   
  
Louis was being honest, vulnerable and opened with him and he had to go and shove back in his face because he was an asshole.   
  
God, fuck. Why was he such an asshole?   
  
With a heavy heart he pulled out of Louis' flat's parking lot and drove to his place, his mind wandering back to what just happened no matter how many times he tried to distract himself with something else.   
  
It was all just hopeless.   
  
When he reached home, he pulled out his phone because he knew the right thing to do would be to apologise and he wasn’t sure when Louis would want to see him again---- if he would ever want to see him again, that is. And he wouldn't blame Louis if he didn't.   
  
He felt the lump in his throat expand while he typed out an apology--- the least he could do for now. If Louis ever did decide to meet him again, he would apologise like there's no tomorrow.   
  
With shaky hands and after correcting too many typos, he sent:   
  
_Lou, I'm so so sorry. I know this is not enough in terms of an apology but I can't let this sit on my chest knowing how much I hurt you. I didn't mean to hurt you. That's the last thing I ever wanted to do. I don’t know why I said what I said... I was just being stupid. If you don't want to talk me again after this, I understand, but please know that I'm so so so sorry._ _  
_   
It felt it was barely touching the surface of a bare minimum apology itself but that was all he could do for now. Driving back there while Louis was still mad would have been the worst idea.   
  
Sure he hadn't seen him that mad before but he still knew Louis. Louis needed to cool off and Louis knew that too, so Harry didn't expect an answer to his text, at least not any time soon, if ever.   
  
***   
  
"Zayn, I really fucked it up this time," Harry whined into his friend's shoulder.   
  
"You really did," Zayn hummed. Harry wanted to be offended but he really fucking did. "What made you even say that in the first place, H?"   
  
"I don't know," Harry groaned, dropping his head into his hands, "I was just feeling so angry and--- and---"   
  
"Jealous?" Zayn raised an eyebrow at him.   
  
Harry refused to look up or reply.   
  
"Are you serious, Harry? After all this shit that happened you're seriously not going to admit that you were jealous?"   
  
"Fine, I was jealous," Harry snapped, sagging against the couch, "and I said something stupid and now he won't talk to me and he hates me."   
  
"Babes, he doesn't hate you," Zayn rubbed his shoulder.   
  
"No, Zayn. He does. You should have seen the way he looked at me--- I would hate me if I were him--- I do hate me," he mumbled sadly, fiddling with the strings of his joggers.   
  
"I don't think he could ever hate you," Zayn said softly. With a sigh, when Harry hadn't replied, he added: "just give him some time, babes."   
  
"How long though? It's been four days, oh my god, Zayn," Harry whined into his hands.   
  
"Has he read your message?" Zayn asked.   
  
"Yeah," Harry replied solemnly, "and he posted a pic of a sunset at some bed and breakfast and tagged Rio," he added, feeling bile rise in his throat.   
  
"Oh," Zayn grimaced slightly, "hey, why don't we go do something today, yeah? Get your mind off of things."   
  
Harry shook his head, feeling his whole body ache. From what, he wasn't exactly sure; it just hurt.   
  
"I think I'm just going to get some sleep," Harry gave him a weak smile.   
  
Zayn had a lot of fight left in him, evident by that distinct furrow of his eyebrows yet he nodded anyways, "fine, but you'll call me if you need something, yeah?"   
  
He probably wouldn't, given how much of time Zayn had already spent with him the past few days. He smiled again, empty and blank.   
  
Zayn left shortly after that and Harry was left with his lonely self, weeping away while watching _Titanic_ for what felt like the hundredth time this week.   
  
He had a bowl of ice cream in his hand, mixed with a little bit of whiskey. It didn't sound like it would go together, but it was a match made in heaven in Harry's opinion.   
  
By the time Jack was freezing himself to death in the ocean, Harry's ice cream was long gone, now turning to just the whiskey alone, taking sips from a bottle, rethinking majority of his life decisions.   
  
He pulled out his phone again, adhering to the masochist side of himself by clicking on Louis' Instagram profile again, looking at the damn sunset and wishing he could have been there with Louis to watch it with him.   
  
Then the other side of his brain would remind him why it was Rio by his side and not Harry. Harry couldn't be with Louis and Louis deserved to be happy even if that meant Harry would have to suck it up for the rest of his life, then so be it.   
  
But it wasn't fair. Nothing felt fair anymore. Why couldn't he get Louis? Why couldn't Louis just budge? He didn't have to want something serious then this would have worked out perfectly, right?   
  
The thought itself caused his stomach to turn.   
  
It was Louis. He was perfect. He was right; if he had met Harry before any of his exes, Harry would have been with Louis to this day, maybe they would have been married.   
  
Maybe his mum and Louis' could have met sooner and that was how they would have met. It could have been so perfect.   
  
But, it didn't happen that way. Harry had gone through two painful divorces and cheating husbands while Louis himself had his own past pains and neither one of them are perfect for each other. Not anymore.   
  
This wasn't five or six years ago. It was too late now.   
  
Harry swallowed thickly, bringing the striking liquid to his lips and gulping it down with a slight hiss.   
  
He looked down at his phone again, pressing the tag that Louis made on his sunset post that went straight to Rio's Instagram page and that was when regret him like a truck.   
  
His latest post was one of two hands intertwined together, the caption just a plain red heart and the tag above one of the hands was Louis'.   
  
Harry felt a wave of anger wash over him. He shoved his phone into his sweatpants pocket and pushed the fluffy blanket off his lap. He took one last swig of the whiskey, the burn in his throat fueling his anger, before grabbing his car keys.   
  
He shouldn't be driving. He knew that already. He reprimanded his friends many times for doing that years ago and he wasn't sure when he became one of them but here he was, swerving on the nearly empty roads--- thankfully.   
  
He wasn't sure what it was, exactly, that compelled him to do something so stupid but it was Harry after all, doing something stupid was his speciality. Aside from Louis. Doing him wasn't stupid. It was amazing. He just acted stupid about it afterwards.   
  
Harry giggled to himself. Before he knew it he was standing outside of Louis' flat, pressing the doorbell repeatedly, knowing it would irk Louis. Good. He wanted things to irk Louis. Whatever. He didn't care.   
  
"Jesus, fuck, wha----"   
  
Louis froze, staring at Harry, cutting himself off.   
  
"Harry," he said.   
  
"Excellent observation," Harry snorted.   
  
"Christ, are you drunk?" Louis sighed, sounding exasperated.   
  
"You're no saint, okay? You get drunk, too," Harry frowned.   
  
Louis rolled his eyes, opening the door wider and gesturing for him to come inside.   
  
Harry smiled triumphantly, hearing the door shut softly behind him.   
  
"Sit," Louis ordered, "I'll bring you some water."   
  
Harry smirked, "bossy, I like it," he watched Louis, once again, his eyes following him as he walked into the kitchen.   
  
Harry sighed, plopping down on the sofa, twiddling his thumbs and waiting for Louis to get back.   
  
"Here," he handed Harry the water and sat on the couch adjacent, watching as Harry gulped the glass down in seconds.   
  
"Thanks," Harry placed it on the coffee table, landing with a loud thud.   
  
"Wanna tell me why you're in this state now?" Louis raised his eyebrows.   
  
Harry felt patronized. He hated it.   
  
"Because of you," he mumbled, not caring about any sort of filter right now.   
  
Harry watched Louis' eyebrows twitch, "Why, exactly?"   
  
"Because," Harry drawled out in a whine, "You're fucking some other dude at a bed and breakfast when that should be me."   
  
Louis shook his head, pinching the bridge of his nose and sighing, "stop saying that--- fuck--- you can't just say shit like that, Harry."   
  
Harry frowned, "Why not? I'm being honest. That's what you wanted, right?" He sat up straighter, searching Louis' eyes. They were so blue.   
  
"When you're fucking drunk," Louis snapped, "fuck, Harry you're so frustrating."   
  
Harry clenched his jaw, "so you did fuck him then? Or did he fuck you? Did you fuck each other?"   
  
"Fuck," Louis shot up from his seat, his neck turning red, "what the fuck is your problem? What's it to you?"   
  
"I want it to be me," Harry hissed.   
  
"No," Louis said but his voice shook, "I told you that I'm done, okay?"   
  
"Done with what?" Harry challenged, his eyes narrowed.   
  
"I'm done trying to get you," Louis spat. The silence that followed afterwards was agonising.   
  
"But you didn't even give me a chance!" Harry finally fought back, refusing to acknowledge the burn at the back of his eyes.   
  
"Didn't give you a chance?" Louis repeated slowly, vehemently, "are you fucking kidding me right now?"   
  
"I'm not kidding you right now," Harry mocked, getting off the couch himself, "you just left--- you told me how you felt and just left me alone like that--what the fuck was I supposed to do? And barely a month after that you fall into someone else's arms."   
  
Louis felt that, you could see the way he blinked back, stepped away from Harry almost as if he were burned.   
  
"It was not just a month after, Harry. I've been waiting for months for you to fucking come to your senses!"   
  
"Well, how the fuck was I supposed to know that? Am I supposed to fucking-- I don’t know-- smell the way you're feeling ?" Harry could feel himself slowly getting sober, the anger and hurt overpowering.   
  
"Oh don't act like you didn't fucking know," Louis scoffed, "you damn well knew about the way I felt. It was so fucking obvious."   
  
"You never told me, Louis. You weren't honest with me. How the hell was I supposed to guess? What if I was just being way out of my league, assuming you liked me? Fuck, Louis I didn't know what the fuck to do, okay? And it's really hard to believe you felt anything for me for months, as you say, right now."   
  
"What the fuck does that mean?" Louis squinted, now stepping closer. Louis wasn't as tall as Harry, but he didn't need to be. All he had to do was look at someone for them to feel intimidated.   
  
But, Harry didn't back down, despite his scrutinizing stare.   
  
"You claim to have all these feelings for me but you didn't give me a chance, Lou," his voice cracked, "I didn't even--- I don’t know-- you didn't give me a chance to even speak afterwards."   
  
Louis' whole demeanour faltered. "Harry, you had so many chances and--- and can you blame me? I mean you made it clear to me every time-- every fucking time--- that you didn't want a relationship and you never showed me any signs that you were even remotely interested in me---"   
  
"Zayn knew," Harry cut him off, "and Liam--- they knew that-- that I liked you-- like you."   
  
"Well, gee, Harry, I like you too," Louis shook his head, rolling his eyes, agitated, "that fucking proves nothing does it?"   
  
"You know what I mean," Harry gritted out, his eyes stinging, "i just -- fuck Louis you're just---"   
  
Harry felt like pulling at his hair because he doesn't get it. He just doesn't get it.   
  
And Harry-- Harry can't just say it. He can't, okay?   
  
"Me?" He squeaked, "do you have any fucking idea how fucking infuriating you are? I just--- I couldn't tell you anything because you just shut it down every time--- every time I wanted to tell you, you brought up something and I just, I retreated."   
  
"Louis, you don't understand," he shook his head, feeling his lip wobble, "I couldn't--- god, I can't."   
  
"You can't what?" Louis asked, stepping closer and closer to Harry, "you can't what, Harry?" He repeated, standing right in front of Harry.   
  
"Be with you," he breathed out, feeling his insides turn.   
  
Louis didn't falter this time. He didn't even look hurt --- more angry.   
  
"You can't or you don't want to?" Louis asked, his eyes darting down to Harry's lips. Harry felt a wave of arousal wash over him.   
  
It was just--- just the way Louis was looking at him.   
  
"I---," he swallowed because Louis moved closer, his hand reaching up, cupping Harry's jaw, rubbing his thumb softly over Harry's cheekbone.   
  
"You what?" He asked breathily, Harry getting a whiff of mint and nicotine.   
  
He wasn't sure when he leaned forward so that his forehead touched Louis'.   
  
"I..." He trailed off, too focused on Louis' lips, looking soft and inviting, his smell was intoxicating, his body was warm. Everything was just--- LouisLouisLouis.   
  
Before he knew it, his lips were on Louis', just as warm as they looked, moving fast and desperate over each other.   
  
Louis' hands travelled down to his waist, pulling him close, his tongue running over Harry's lips. Harry opened his mouth willingly, moaning at the feeling of their tongues meeting.   
  
Louis groaned, pushing him backwards. Harry didn’t know where but he went anyways, trusting Louis.   
  
It was a wall. His back hit a wall. He didn't know which one--- he didn't care. Especially when Louis bit his bottom lip sharply before pulling away.   
  
"You what?" He nudged their noses together, breathing heavily.   
  
Harry was about to reply again when Louis kissed his jaw softly, his body melting like putty in his hands. He felt Louis' hands rub over the skin on his hips.   
  
"You what?" He asked once again, mumbling it against his skin.   
  
"Can't," Harry said breathlessly, tugging at Louis' hair, letting his head fall back onto the wall.   
  
Louis pushed their groins together, locking Harry against the wall.   
  
"Fuck," Harry breathed out, drunk on Louis. Long gone was the alcohol high--- now it was just him.   
  
Louis nipped at the skin between his shoulder and neck. Harry felt his cock chubbing up the more Louis grinded against him.   
  
"Louis," Harry pushed at his chest. Louis stopped, looking at him, eyes searching and filled with lust, "you have a--- a boyfriend."   
  
Just like that, he felt his Louis-high slowly dissipate.   
  
Louis shook his head, "I don't-- we're not--- I ended it."   
  
"You what?" Harry straightened up.   
  
"I ended it," he repeated, his voice louder.   
  
"Why?" Harry asked, his breathing still out of control.   
  
"Because you're an idiot," Louis leaned against him again, their foreheads touching, "and so fucking infuriating."   
  
"So you aren't together anymore?"   
  
Louis huffed, "no, we aren't together anymore,"     
  
Harry bit back a smile that didn't go unnoticed by Louis. Louis surged forward again kissing him hard, hot and heavy, moving against each other clumsily.   
  
Louis' hands were gripping his waist tightly, pulling Harry closer and closer, breathing into his mouth, their cocks rubbing together through the fabric of their pants.     
  
Louis pulled away again. Harry whined.   
  
"Are you drunk?" Louis asked, leaving small kisses down Harry's throat.     
  
"Fuck no," Harry shook his head, "not after all of that."   
  
"Are you sure?" Louis asked, staring intently at Harry.   
  
"Positive," Harry kissed him again.   
  
Louis hummed against his lips, again pushing him backwards until his back hit the door.   
  
This was real. It was happening. Harry wasn't sure what exactly but it was happening. And he'd be damned if he stopped it now.   
  
Louis lips were sucking his skin and his hands were all over Harry's body and Harry was going crazy.   
  
"Lou," he said. Louis stopped, taking a breath.   
  
"Yeah?"   
  
Harry looked at him, watching the blue that he loved in his eyes getting eaten up by lustful black.   
  
"Take me to bed," he whispered.   
  
"Fuck," Louis whispered back. In a second, Louis hands were underneath his thighs, picking him up, even if it were for only but a few seconds to place him onto the bed.   
  
Louis hovered over him, "You really are infuriating you know," he leaned down again, lips latching onto the sensitive skin of Harry's neck, sucking and biting.   
  
Harry moaned, rutting upwards. His hands wandered down to the small of Louis' back then to his bum, giving it a squeeze.   
  
Louis moaned, grinding down against Harry.   
  
"Too many clothes," he huffed. His warmth was suddenly gone from Harry's body.   
  
A whine fell short at his lips as he watched Louis pulled his hoodie over his head, bare-chested underneath. He stood at the foot of his bed, pushing down his sweatpants in one swift movement, also bare underneath.   
  
Harry let out a small whimper, seeing his cock bobbing against his taut stomach. Louis smirked.   
  
"Your turn, love," he said, voice rough.   
  
Harry nodded quickly. He sat up to remove his jumper, pulling it off his head. As he was about to stand to take off his pants, Louis pushed him so that he was laying down again.   
  
"I'll do that," he said quietly, kissing Harry again, although it was slower this time, it was still hard.   
  
He watched as Louis took his sweet time placing tiny kisses down Harry's chest, leaving occasional bite marks here and there, until he reached the top of Harry's pants.   
  
He sat up, removing the pants slowly, tapping Harry's hips so he arched his bottom half in order to take it off completely.   
  
Then, they were both left bare and naked in front of each other--- again. Neither of them even had time to really look because once Harry's pants were discarded, Louis was on him again, kissing him, marking him, touching him.   
  
He reached down to Harry's cock and finally looked at Harry, his eyebrow raised in question. Harry nodded, eager to feel Louis' hands on his cock.   
  
And god, was it amazing.   
  
Louis' hand moved slowly and teasingly over his cock while he left lovebites on Harry's hips.   
  
"Lou," he whimpered.   
  
"What do you want, love?"   
  
"You--- in me," he said. Louis paused, removing his hand from Harry's cock. He looked at Harry then, eyebrows furrowed.   
  
"Are--- are you sure? You said--- the last time--- you said you hadn't... unless there was someone else you d--"   
  
Harry pulled him closer and kissed him, "no there hasn't been, just need it to be you--- need you."   
  
Louis nodded, pecking his lips before pulling away again, "okay," he said before reaching over to his nightstand, the scenario being achingly familiar.   
  
"You're thinking about it, aren't you?" Louis said, the bottle of lube and a condom still in his hand, body still over Harry's.   
  
Harry nodded, he looked at Louis, "I'll be here," he said fiercely, "I'll be here in the morning."   
  
Louis gaze softened, he leaned over Harry, kissing him softly, "better be, or else I want a refund."   
  
Harry snorted, smacking his shoulder lightly, "get in me now, come on." He wiggled his hips impatiently.   
  
Louis snorted, sitting up on his haunches. He opened the bottle and spread the lube over his fingers. Harry spread his legs opened, biting his lip in anticipation.   
  
Once Louis prodded in his first finger, Harry already felt like a goner. He was slow but thorough, kissing Harry's thighs before adding in a second then scissoring them.   
  
Harry moaned loudly, eyes shut, loving the way Louis' fingers felt inside of him.   
  
"Feel good, love?" Louis mumbled against Harry's inner thigh. His other hand rubbed over his stomach.   
  
"Yeah," Harry said but his voice was shaky.   
  
"Gonna add another," Louis said. He kissed his way up Harry's body until he met his lips again, licking over the seam of Harry's lips delicately as he pushed in a third finger.   
  
Harry's breath stuttered, feeling the burning stretch that he dearly missed all these months.   
  
"Fuck," he breathed out as Louis started to move his fingers, grazing his prostate.     
  
"Ready," Harry managed to get out.   
  
Louis pulled out his fingers slowly, wiping them over his sheets before reaching for the condom and placing it clumsily over his cock.   
  
Harry's mouth watered, seeing how thick and beautiful his cock looked, already feeling it inside of himself.   
  
Louis braced himself over Harry, kissing him hard again, their tongues meeting, "Ready?" He mumbled against his mouth.   
  
"Yeah."   
  
Louis pushed in carefully, Harry inhaled sharply, letting out a groan as he pushed further and further in.   
  
"Oh my god."   
  
"You're so tight, fuck," Louis dropped his forehead down to Harry's, kissing him lazily until he bottomed out.   
  
Harry couldn't think straight when Louis started to thrust in and out, slowly at first, feeling the drag of Louis' cock inside him, thick and stretching him opened.   
  
Their chests pressed together, sweaty and sticky while their moans were desperate and kisses haphazard.   
  
Then Louis went faster and Harry threw his head back, moaning so loudly that he felt sorry for Louis' neighbours.   
  
"F-fuck, Louis, right there," Harry whimpered as Louis thrusted against his prostate.   
  
Louis' weight was fully on top of Harry. They were pressed together. Harry wrapped his legs around Louis' waist to pull him even closer.   
  
Harry couldn't stop moaning, every fibre in his body felt like it was alive, burning and in the best way possible.   
  
Louis slowed down his thrusts, almost teasing Harry, throwing his head back in a long moan before speeding up again.   
  
"Close," he whispered, hiding his face into the crook of Harry's neck, back to sucking at his skin.   
  
Harry's hands travelled down to Louis' bum again, squeezing it only to receive a harder thrust that caused his insides to burn. He did again, causing the same outcome.   
  
"Oh god, Lou---" he whined, feeling his cock hit Louis' stomach, causing a delicious friction, precome leaking over both of them.   
  
Louis reached down with one hand and started to jerk Harry off.   
  
It didn't take long for Harry to come, his body convulsing, hole tightening around Louis' cock.   
  
"Fuck, fuck," Louis groaned. Harry felt the condom fill up with his come.   
  
They both were sweaty and breathing heavily. Louis collapsed to Harry's right, trying to catch his breath. Harry grimaced, feeling uncomfortable with the lube and come all over his body.   
  
"Couldn't have been that bad," Louis laughed tiredly.   
  
Harry shook his head, the movement lethargic, "'m sticky."   
  
"Right," Louis shifted so that he was facing Harry, "but you're too tired to have a shower now, aren't you?"   
  
Harry nodded, sleepy already.   
  
Louis smiled fondly, "we'll talk about it tomorrow morning, okay?"   
  
Harry nodded again, eyes already half shut. The last thing he felt was Louis' lips against his forehead.   
  
***   
  
When Harry woke up, it was to the sound of a soft, almost shutter-like click of a sound. He groaned, eyes adjusting to the light of the room, landing on a figure standing over him.   
  
Out of instinct he jumped back until he heard that familiar soft chuckle.   
  
"Lou," he huffed.   
  
"Hey," he smiled smugly.   
  
Harry glanced down to the camera in his hands, "what are you doing?" He asked, suddenly self-conscious. He pulled the thin sheet over his legs to his waist.   
  
"You look beautiful in the morning," Louis shrugged nonchalantly.   
  
Harry blushed, sitting up against the headboard, "Thanks, I guess."   
  
"Had to take a picture," Louis winked, placing the camera down on the nightstand near Harry.   
  
"That's not creepy at all," Harry mumbled.   
  
"Oh hush," Louis crawled over Harry placing a kiss to his lips, surprising Harry.   
  
"We should probably talk, shouldn't we?" Louis sat next to him, also against the headboard.   
  
Harry nodded, his lips still tingling. He reached out bravely to take Louis' hand into his. He saw Louis' cheeks turn pink.   
  
"That was... intense," Harry started, rubbing his thumb over Louis' knuckles.   
  
"The sex or?"   
  
Harry rolled his eyes fondly, "that too."   
  
"The kiss just now... it wasn't too much, was it?" Louis asked shyly. Harry found it adorable.   
  
"No," he bit his lip, refraining from beaming, "those pictures though..."   
  
Louis' face paled, "really? I can delete them if you want me to, I'm so---”   
  
"Lou, I'm joking. It's all right," Harry squeezed his hand giving him a small smile, "I really wanna see them though."   
  
"Uh, yeah, I'll show them to you later if you'd like," Louis said, his tone still bashful.   
  
"Yeah, um," Harry shifted so that he was closer to Louis. Louis smiled, "I--- I'm sorry about last night... the way I acted was... stupid."   
  
Louis sighed, "you were jealous."   
  
"I was," Harry admitted sheepishly.   
  
"H, you always tell me about how you're not going to be in a relationship again and--- overall against it--- you know what I want, love."   
  
"Yeah," Harry sighed, his head hung low, "I'm scared, Lou."   
  
"What are you scared of?" Louis tilted Harry's chin up so Harry was looking at him. Louis frowned.   
  
"Losing you."   
  
Louis features softened, "love," he brought Harry's hand up to his lips, placing small kisses over his knuckles that made Harry smile.   
  
"I know you've been through a lot, yeah? I get it. But, I'm not them, Harry. I would never do anything like that to you. You and I both know if you're being an arse I'll call you out on it."   
  
Harry giggled, "Yeah and I promise I'll do the same for you."   
  
"It's not easy for you, I know," Louis brought their intertwined hands over to his lap, "but I just--- it hurt because you wouldn't give us a chance, you know? It's like you didn't trust me."   
  
"I do trust you," Harry was quick to reassure him, "I just--- I don’t trust me--- I keep pushing people away and I don't want to do that to you."   
  
"I'm not going anywhere, H. If you'll have me, then I'm here," the sincerity in his voice made Harry tear up.   
  
"I'm confused," Harry shook his head, wiping at his eyes stubbornly, "I---"   
  
"Okay, hey, tell you what," Louis turned to face him fully, both of his hands now in Louis', "let's just take it slow?"   
  
"You mean like what you thought we were going to do way back when," Harry chuckled.   
  
Louis smiled, "kind of--- I won't rush you into anything, okay? It'll just be us--- you and I."   
  
Harry bit his lip, nodding slowly, "fine, but we do have a lot to talk about."   
  
Louis beamed at him, surging forward and planting a hard kiss on his lips. Harry laughed, falling back onto the bed, Louis on top of him.   
  
"Morning breath," Harry turned away when Louis ran his tongue over his lips.   
  
Louis sighed, "I already brushed my teeth."   
  
"I didn't," Harry protested, blocking Louis' mouth with his palm only to have it licked. "Ew," he grimaced, wiping it on the sheets.   
  
"What did you wanna talk about?" Louis asked, ignoring his remark, "You said we have a lot to talk about."   
  
"Before you attacked me," Harry squinted at him, "I was going to ask what happened between you and whats-his-face."   
  
Louis snorted, "Rio?"   
  
"That one," Harry tried to suppress a grimace.     
  
"You're cute when you're jealous," Louis pecked his nose. Harry wrinkled his nose as Louis fell beside him, "and, I broke up with him because, well, it didn't feel right-- I realised I wasn't ready."   
  
"Ready to?"   
  
"Move on from you, I guess. I know I told you I would but I realised that moving on from you didn’t mean that I had to jump straight into a relationship."   
  
Harry leaned up on his elbow, still on his side facing Louis. He rested his head on his palm.   
  
"I'm sorry, Louis," he said.   
  
Louis matched his position, "I'm sorry, too."   
  
"You have nothing to be s---"   
  
"I do," he interrupted Harry, "I shouldn't have shut you out like that and I should have been honest about how I feel way sooner than I did. I also should have at least given you a chance to speak that night."   
  
Harry's lips twitched upward, "it's fine, I think I would have given you the answer you were dreading anyways."   
  
Louis huffed, air puffing out his cheeks, "I guess things have a weird way of working out then, huh?"   
  
Harry grinned at him, "so does this mean we're going to work it out?"   
  
"That's what I've wanted since the moment I met you."   
  
Harry's breath caught in his throat, "what have you wanted?"   
  
"You."   
  
Harry felt his cheeks warm up, "I think you've had me since that very moment."   
  
"Since I confronted Zayn?"   
  
Harry laughed, "yeah, even thought you were quite fit."   
  
"Well, right back at you," Louis said, "wanted to actually, uh, talk to you that day, I guess."   
  
Harry raised his eyebrows, a slow smile appearing on his face, "you wanted to talk to me how?"   
  
"Um, wanted to ask for your number--- or well, end the night with your number in my phone, really," Louis said, his ears redder than his cheeks.   
  
Harry wanted to coo at him. "You wanted to chat me up then?" He asked cheekily.   
  
Louis punched his shoulder, "you're making me sound so sleazy."   
  
"You're the one who wanted to chat me up," Harry teased. With a quieter, softer voice he added, "you didn’t have to--- got me here anyways."   
  
"Suppose I did," Louis smiled. He leaned forward, pressing his lips over Harry's, "You're going to have to get used to that though."   
  
"Used to what?" Harry asked, eyes opening slowly as Louis pulled away.   
  
"Random kisses--- might even interrupt your piss just to kiss you," Louis winked playfully.   
  
"Louis," Harry groaned, "You're so fucking gross, honestly."   
  
Louis cackled.   
  
Once their laughter died down, Harry said, "I'm still scared to do this--- and I still don't want to hurt you or myself in this--- also, if we don't happen to work out, you have to promise me that we'll be friends because you're my best friend and I can't lose you, Louis."   
  
Louis' smile fell, "darling, you have to stop thinking that way. Get all of that out of your mind, okay? We'll do this one step at a time and I told you I'm not going anywhere."   
  
Harry swallowed thickly, nodding and attempting to push away his fears.   
  
He's worth it, Harry reminded himself. They're worth it.   
  
"So--- so what now?" Harry asked, unsure.   
  
Louis smirked again, "Well, now, I was hoping to get a round two of last night and a little cuddle from you as I've missed you terribly."   
  
Harry was not going to cry again -- he was not.   
  
"Missed you, too," he jumped over so that he was straddling Louis, still bare and opened over him. Louis was only in a pair of boxers and god the sight was something out of Harry's wet dreams.   
  
"Could really get used to this," Louis' hands rested over Harry's thighs.   
  
Harry smiled, leaning down to peck Louis softly before pulling away.   
  
"Just so I know we're on the same page; you and I, we're... together. This isn’t some friends with benefits thing, right?"   
  
The uncertainty in his voice made Harry want to just hold him tight, "yeah, I---I think I want that--- I know I do."   
  
Louis smiled softly, "I know that I do."   
  
"Good," Harry grinned, unable to take it off his face.   
  
"Fine," Louis shrugged, attempting to come off as nonchalant.   
  
Harry shook his head, "can I go brush my teeth now?"   
  
Louis hummed, his hands running further and further up Harry's thighs. He made no move of letting Harry go.   
  
"You have to let me go," Harry said, shutting his eyes when Louis' hand rested just over his inner thigh.   
  
"I'm afraid I can't do that, love. Not again," one of Louis' hands went up to cup Harry's face, his eyes opening as a result.   
  
"'S just to go brush my teeth," Harry muttered as Louis ran his fingers through the knots in Harry's hair.   
  
"Promise?" Louis asked. There was a playful smile on his face but a dubious look in his eyes.   
  
"Louis," Harry turned his head to kiss the palm of his hand, "I'm not going anywhere besides the bathroom--- I promise."   
  
Louis gave him a cute, crooked smile, his hands falling away from Harry's body. "Fine, I'll be waiting then."   
  
"I think you're done waiting," Harry kissed him again because he could do that now.   
  
As he got off the bed and strutted to the bathroom he could feel Louis' eyes on him. He blushed.   
  
"Stop staring or my arse will fall off," Harry said over his shoulder, expecting a loud laugh but all he got was a fond smile, watching Harry walk into the bathroom.   
  
Harry hoped he could keep that smile on his face forever.


	11. Epilogue

**June 2018**   
  
Walking hand-in-hand with Louis was something Harry was definitely growing to love. He may even enjoy it more than the sex.   
  
All right, maybe not more than their sex. Their sex was really fucking good.   
  
Still, Harry loved holding Louis' hand and he knew the feeling was reciprocated because whenever Harry hadn’t reached out for Louis' hand, Louis would be the one reaching out himself.   
  
The feeling felt a hundred times better right now, amongst dozens and dozens of people including some of Louis' co-workers and their best friends.   
  
They walked with their hands entwined , Harry following Louis' lead because Louis 'had something important to show him'.   
  
There were so many works he had passed at the gallery that he wanted to pause and look at but obviously Louis' piece was the most important. He figured that that was what Louis was talking about.   
  
"We're almost there, love," Louis said over his shoulder, a beaming smile on his face.   
  
Harry smiled back because how couldn't he? He just let out a breathy laugh and followed behind Louis, led by his hand.   
  
They waved and smiled politely at a few people walking by until they came to a stop at a photograph hung in a simple black frame, the photo itself in stark contrast to the dark of the frame, sunlight shining through the whole picture.   
  
"Is that---" Harry's eyes widened, stepping closer.   
  
"Yeah," Louis stood next to him, cheeks pink, "it's you."   
  
Harry felt his eyes stinging, overcome with emotion. He had so many to choose from to display his work and yet---   
  
"You put me up for your gallery display?" Harry asked in disbelief as if he hadn't already seen the photo right in front of him.   
  
"Yeah," Louis' confirmed redundantly, "uh, you can't really see your face or anything so I hope that's okay otherwise I'll p---"   
  
Harry didn't let him finish, surging forward and pressing a kiss to his mouth to shut him up.   
  
"I love it," Harry mumbled, pulling away, "god I can't believe you did that though."   
  
Harry turned to look at the photo again, his hand already returning into Louis'.   
  
"I'm so glad you do, love," Louis grinned, kissing his cheek softly.   
  
Of course Harry fucking loved it.   
  
It was a picture that Louis took after they had slept together about a month ago. Harry remembered hearing the sound of the camera go off. He remembered this particular picture too, how much Louis loved it and how he joked about framing it and putting it up on one of the walls in his hallway.   
  
This was definitely not his hallway.   
  
But, Harry agreed that it was a good photo--- not to be vain or anything--- he just praised Louis for getting such a good shot of him.   
  
It was of Harry, taken from the foot of the bed, laying on his stomach, the thin sheets covering the bottom half of his body, only his right leg peaking out and bare back on display with his messy hair, face into the pillow.   
  
His actual face was not visible and neither were most of his tattoos. No one would know who this was unless they were really close to Harry.   
  
"You're amazing," Harry breathed out, eyes still glued onto the picture.   
  
"This picture of you deserves to be shown to hundreds even thousands of people--- I meant it when I said you're fucking beautiful, darling," Louis pulled Harry closer by his waist.   
  
Harry felt his vision blur, "You're buttering me up, what do you want?"   
  
Louis' lips twitched, "don't want anything, already have what I need right here."   
  
Harry was definitely crying now, silent, happy tears wetting his cheeks only to be wiped away by Louis' soft fingertips.   
  
Harry smiled at him.   
  
"If you start crying like this then I will too," Louis warned him, his voice already shaky.   
  
Harry let out a throaty chuckle, "cry baby," he teased.   
  
Louis rolled his eyes, leaning forward and pressing a kiss to Harry's now damp cheek. Harry could feel his cheeks growing hotter.   
  
"Did you read the caption of it?" Louis then asked.   
  
Harry shook his head, stepping out of Louis' hold to move towards the picture where a silver plaque had words engraved on it, too small for Harry to read from where he stood previously.   
  
_One of my most treasured things about you is that at any given moment you are blissfully unaware of just how perfect you are - Tyler Knott Gregson_   
  
And if Harry wasn't crying before--- he sure was now.   
  
"Jesus, Harry," Louis stepped over to him, engulfing him into a hug, "I'm sorry, I didn't know you'd cry this much," he laughed weakly.   
  
"Well, what did you expect me to do?" Harry mumbled into Louis' shoulder, tightening his arms around Louis, "god, Louis," he pulled away, looking at the picture then the quote again, "You're just--- you're so amazing, my god."   
  
"You are," Louis smiled, "and you deserve to know that."   
  
Harry was left speechless, all he could do was shake his head, "I feel like I have to make a painting of you and hang it in a gallery too now."   
  
"At least be original, love," Louis pinched his hip.   
  
"I don't think I could match up to this," Harry said quietly.   
  
He only wished he could do something this incredible for Louis because Louis was perfect too. He really, really was.   
  
"H, you don't need to 'match up to this', that's not what this is about, I hope you know," Louis said, his eyebrows pinched together in concern.   
  
"I know I just---" Harry swallowed thickly, looking at Louis, getting lost in the blue.   
  
"You just what?" Louis grabbed Harry by his waist, smiling smugly.   
  
"I--- I love you," Harry blurted out.   
  
Louis' smile fell, his eyes filled with shock which did sting a little.   
  
"I love you too," he answered back, putting his mind at ease.   
  
Harry let out a breath, "I'm sorry-- I know I haven't been the most trustworthy person and I--- I really mean it."   
  
"I know you do, H. I can feel it."   
  
Harry looked at him with a quizzical stare, "you can feel it?" He smirked.   
  
"Not like that, Harry," he rolled his eyes, "I can feel it in the way you look at me, the way you smile at me, laugh at my lame jokes, touch me, respond to me, hug me--- in so many different ways."   
  
"Lou, please stop making me cry," Harry muttered, feeling another round of tears welling up in his eyes.   
  
"I'm being honest," Louis chuckled, kissing his cheek again, "do you wanna get some champagne now?"   
  
"Yeah," Harry nodded. Before Louis could walk away, he stopped him with a hand on his shoulder and kissed him again, harder and with so, so much of love, hoping that what Louis said was true. He hoped he could feel how much Harry loved him.   
  
"Love you," Harry mumbled against his lips.   
  
"Love you," Louis said back, a huge grin on his face, "now come on, I spot Zayn and Liam here and I'm sure Niall is off somewhere with a glass of champagne already in his hand."   
  
Harry walked with Louis again, their hands intertwined again, looking for Zayn and Liam.   
  
Harry was still in awe. He couldn't believe how much of an amazing human being this man beside him was.   
  
He was so busy smiling at the ground as they walked that he hadn’t even noticed when they bumped into Zayn, Liam and Niall all at the same time.   
  
"Why do you both look like you were crying?" Liam asked, face filled with worry.   
  
"We were," Louis replied, looking at Harry with a private smile on his face, squeezing his hand, "happy tears though."   
  
"No more sad tears," Harry said (mostly to Louis).   
  
"Louis," Niall said, looking almost as dapper as Louis was with a suit on, hand on Louis' shoulder, "I hate to break up this love fest but there's some people I need to introduce you to."   
  
"Oh, right," he turned to Harry, placing a kiss on his jaw, "I'll see you in a few, love," then to Zayn and Liam who were beaming like proud parents, "see you guys," with a short nod, following Niall.   
  
Harry watched him go with a smile on his face he could not contain, biting his bottom lip.   
  
"Could you be more in love?" Zayn asked, his tone playful.   
  
Harry turned to look at him, "it's that obvious, huh?"   
  
"Since day one," Liam replied, smirking.   
  
"So you were crying then?" Zayn asked, raising his perfect eyebrow.   
  
They were both dressed in suits too, black and white with neat bowties. Harry felt really out of place with his red floral suit but the way Louis had looked at him made his doubts wilt away.   
  
"He put a picture up of me," Harry said, blushing, "and I may have told him that I love him and he said it back."   
  
"Wow," Liam huffed out his bottom lip, impressed, "who knew Louis was such a romantic, here we thought you were the hopeless romantic."   
  
"I still am," Harry argued.   
  
"It's great to see you so happy, H. Don't think I've ever seen you this happy before," Zayn said, his smile was sincere and fond.   
  
"Ever?"   
  
"Ever," Zayn confirmed, "I’m glad you two got your shit together, you're perfect for each other."     
  
"He can't stop staring at you, you know," Liam nodded his head over Harry's shoulder.   
  
Harry turned around to see Louis in conversation with two other people along with Niall but his eyes were fixed on Harry only glancing occasionally at the people he was talking to.   
  
Harry flushed, blowing a kiss at Louis and watching Louis' smile grow and cheeks flush too.   
  
"Are Zayn and I this gross?" Liam grimaced.   
  
Harry rolled his eyes, "yes."   
  
"You two are attached at the hip," Zayn scoffed.   
  
Harry raised his eyebrow, "it's like you don't even see yourselves right now."   
  
They looked at each other then down at their joined hands, sides stuck to each other.   
  
Liam cleared his throat, moving away from Zayn, "well I need to go to the bathroom anyway so you'll have to excuse me."   
  
He kissed Zayn's temple before walking away. Harry looked at Zayn with a knowing smirk.   
  
"Shut up," Zayn mumbled then looked over Harry's shoulder again at Louis, "so, made the right choice you think?"   
  
Harry looked at Louis again, his head thrown back, the beautiful laugh of his was something Harry had memorized by now.   
  
Harry smiled fondly.   
  
"Definitely," he said without missing a beat. 


End file.
